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tamrielic · 3 days

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pairing – scaramouche | wanderer × f!reader

fandom | media – genshin impact

word count – 4,659・AO3

summary – you’ve been avoiding him, and he needs to know why.

tags﹠warnings – smut・porn with plot・degradation・dirty talk・angst・hurt/comfort・fluff・scaramouche being scaramouche・scaramouche is his own warning honestly・vulnerable scaramouche・emotional reader・reader is very subtly implied to be plus-sized・reader has afab!genitalia

originally posted on – 11/07/2022

author’s note (11/07/2022) – if you’d told me a month or so ago that i’d write an almost 5,000 word smutfic featuring scaramouche, i would’ve laughed in your face... but here we are! i dedicate this fic to one of my most beloved and beautiful besties, gen aka getousimp aka gixxie, because she’s absolutely amazing and is the #1 scaramouche fan!!! i really hope that i did him justice, and i hope y’all enjoy – this is only my second ever smutfic that i’ve written and/or posted online! ALSO – i wrote this entire thing before the archon quest that features him (archon quest interlude chapter: act iii – inversion of genesis) and before he was (finally) released as a playable character, so... his characterization is questionable!

The smell of incense and the crackling of the fire in the large marble fireplace greet you as you step inside the mansion in the adepti teapot realm you call home, shutting the doors as quietly as possible behind you and releasing a soft sigh of relief when there is no noise to imply you’ve been heard.

Slowly, you make your way across the main area of the house to the room that was designated as the library and office, slipping inside silently and quickly sliding the doors shut behind you.

Inhaling deeply, you march over to the desk to begin sorting through the large pile of letters that had accumulated during your absence.

You’ve been traveling with Paimon, helping the Aranara in Sumeru and avoiding… well, avoiding multiple things. Searching for your brother, your various promises and responsibilities, and most importantly a certain short-tempered Anemo wielder.

Coming out of the haze of your thoughts, you notice the messy stack of books that had undoubtedly been made by some of your numerous guests and you huff as you grab them and go to put them away.

It wasn’t that Scaramouche had done anything wrong per se, it was more the issue of you being so naturally affectionate and showing it via physical touch and honest words… and worrying that it was becoming too much for him, or too annoying. Or both.

It hasn’t been that long since he’s joined your group of friends… only about two months, though could you honestly say that the two of you were friends?

He was so hot and cold, at times he was standoffish and rude, snapping at everyone and everything and it was during those times that you swore he hated you… but then the next time you’d come across him or have him join you while adventuring, he’d look at you with an unreadable expression and allow you to touch him without bristling, especially when you two were alone, and the back and forth of it confused you.

You’ve been oddly drawn to him ever since you had first met him in Inazuma, his voice sticking in your head and repeating his taunting words and the vision of him sauntering towards you with that insufferable smirk wouldn’t leave your mind…

In truth, your feelings have only gotten stronger as time had passed, especially after he’d reluctantly joined your adventuring team and you’d inevitably gotten to know him better.

If you are being honest, the sexual tension between you two could likely be cut with a knife and served on a platter… in addition to there being purer, deeper romantic feelings present.

It’s far too early to call it “love”, but it is certainly well on its way to becoming that dreaded word… on your end, at least.

You can feel your face heat up in response to the direction your thoughts have gone and as you shove the last book onto the bookshelf you lean forward and bonk your forehead against the hardwood in an effort to clear your mind.

In your distraction you haven’t noticed that the subject of your thoughts has snuck into the room and is moving towards you with purpose.

A pale hand suddenly slams down to grasp onto the shelf right behind you, the other hand gripping your waist and spinning you to face the intruder.

Purple eyes meet yours, anger making them almost burn from their intensity as he leans in so his face is mere inches away from yours.

Gasping, you shrank back against the bookshelf. “Scaramouche? What–?”

“You’ve been avoiding me. Why?” He bites out, eyes narrowing slightly and the fingers at your waist twitching in what you assumed to be frustration.

Blinking at him while you try to gather your thoughts, you can’t help but notice that he isn’t wearing his usual amount of layers – just the tight black high-collared shirt and his shorts and sandals rather than his familiar complex ensemble – and your face heats at the realization that so much of his skin was now visible to you.

Swallowing to try and moisten your suddenly dry mouth, you’re sure that your face openly shows how flustered you are.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’ve been busy but I haven’t been–”

“Cut the bullshit. Do you think I’m an idiot? It’s not like you’ve been subtle about it, and it’s pissing me off,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes as he moves the hand that has been pinning you to the bookshelf to grasp the back of your neck, his thumb brushing against the sensitive skin of your nape.

Eyes widening at his actions and words, you clear your throat and square your shoulders.

“I’m sorry that you feel that way, Scaramouche, but–”

“Why are you calling me that?” He snaps, scowling at you with narrowed eyes.

“Calling you what? Your name?” You reply, eyes darting away from his prying gaze.

It was true that you haven’t necessarily been subtle, but you had assumed that he wouldn’t take much notice of the lack of attention and affection that he seemed to find barely tolerable – this vehement reaction was very unexpected and it was leaving you reeling.

He lets out an angry sigh before his fingers grasp your chin and force you to meet his eyes.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He demands, eyes flickering over your face as his lips turn down into a slight pout.

Glancing down at his mouth, you unconsciously wet your lips and his gaze immediately hones in on it.

Gasping softly, your mouth gapes a bit in surprise as you observe how his burning purple eyes darken as he focuses on your mouth, leaning ever so slightly closer and tilting his head as if entranced.

“Scaram–mmph!”

Lips pressing to yours cut you off, a low groan escaping him when you immediately reciprocate.

Eyes fluttering shut as you breathe him in, you bring your hands up to scratch your fingers through the coarse hair of his undercut.

Scaramouche growls then, shoving you up against the bookshelf as he presses as much of his body as he can to your own, the hand on your waist now groping at your soft skin.

Whimpering, your eyes shoot open and you tear your mouth from his to gasp for air as he starts roughly kissing down your jaw.

“Don’t lie, you were avoiding me. Because of this?” He whispers, lips and warm breath brushing the shell of your ear.

Exhaling with a whine, you nod before his lips press to your own again for a brief moment before he pulls away, nipping at your bottom lip.

He smirks at your dumb expression, tugging you over to the table in the middle of the room and reminding you that he was much stronger than he looked by easily lifting you up to sit on the edge, pushing the letters off and out of the way.

Gasping indignantly, you open your mouth to reprimand him but he takes the opportunity to kiss you again, sliding his tongue in your mouth with a muffled groan.

You can’t help but to close your eyes as your tongue glides against his, feeling that insufferable smirk of his against your lips.

Sliding his hands down to your thighs, he roughly pulls them apart so he can step between them and press his body to yours once again.

He chuckles at your resulting moan, slowly pulling back and licking his lips as if savoring the taste of you.

Your eyes flutter open as you unconsciously follow after him to chase his lips, his smirk growing at your resulting frustrated pout.

“You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid,” he teases, chuckling at your resulting scowl – but you didn’t deny it.

Before you could formulate a response, he grasps your hips and slides them towards him, making you yelp and slam your hands down on the table behind you to keep from collapsing.

Keeping his dark eyes locked with yours, he leans over you and slides his fingers under the waistband of your pants, tilting his head and tugging ever so slightly in question.

Biting your lip, you lift your hips in response, wiggling a little in impatience.

Inclining his head towards you, he pulls your pants off roughly and your arms give out as you collapse back down on the edge of the table, panting.

His hands tug at the hem of your shirt next as he bends over you, lips pressing bruising kisses to your neck as he slowly lifts it, fingertips tickling along the soft skin of your stomach.

Gasping, you reach between you and nudge his hands aside, practically tearing your shirt up and over your head to get rid of the offending garment.

“Eager, aren’t we?” He murmurs, chuckling lowly as he goes back to mouthing at your neck.

You whine and grab at his back as he bites down on your collarbone, his muscles flexing in response to the feeling of your fingernails digging into his skin as you jolt and cry out.

Groaning, he tears himself away from you to do a slow perusal of the skin that’s been bared to him.

You feel like you’re going to implode, the way his eyes manage to get even darker and his expression more severe in its blatant lust, and you jerk your hips up uncontrollably in response.

His eyes immediately flick down to where you’re soaked and burning for him and his throat bobs with a swallow before he looms over you, skimming his hand slowly down the curve of your waist before sliding a finger against the wetness of the fabric concealing you from him.

“Look at you, look at how wet you are – is this all for me?” He questions, voice gone rough from arousal.

Nodding and biting your lip, you can’t help but to grind up into his fingers.

“So needy,” he grunts, crouching down to nip at your inner thigh.

“Scara, I–!”

“Oh, we’re back to Scara now, hm?” He laughs harshly, making quick work of tugging your panties down and off your legs as he shakes his head at you.

“Scara, I’m sorry–!”

“You should be,” he interrupts you again, glaring up at you from between your legs.

You’re a desperate whimpering mess at this point, and you don’t manage to form a response before he runs his fingers up your inner thighs and jerks them open as much as your body will allow.

“Now be a good girl and say “please” and maybe I’ll give you what you want,“ he growls, brushing the tip a finger through your wetness.

“Please, Scara, I need you!” You whine, embarrassed at how needy you sound but also so turned on that you can’t bring yourself to care.

Smirking, he finally takes mercy on you and slowly slides a finger into you, eyes widening at the feel of your slick warmth.

You keen and writhe against the table when he slowly adds another finger and crooks them, expertly massaging a spot on your inner walls that makes you see stars and causes more heat to pool between your thighs.

“Look at you, getting all worked up over nothing! Your pretty pussy can barely handle my fingers – what a pathetic little thing you are,” he laughs mockingly, thrusting his fingers into you roughly.

Panting, you bite your lip and glance down to meet his eyes, silently begging him for more as your thighs tremble and your back arches.

Breath hitching at your desperation, he suddenly shoves his head between your thighs and licks a broad stroke through your folds, swirling his tongue around your clit before lightly grazing his teeth against it.

You wail, your walls contracting around his fingers as you feel like you’ve been hit by lightning as the tension snaps, little whines escaping you as your hips shudder and grind against his face.

Chuckling, he laps up your release as you ride out your high before getting up and looming over you, smirking at your fucked out expression.

“We’ve barely gotten started and already you’re being such a good little slut for me,” he murmurs, licking his lips suggestively when your eyes flutter open to blearily look at him.

You want to pinch yourself because you swear this has to be a dream, it is all happening so quickly and you’ve just had one of the best orgasms of your entire life but are somehow still so unbelievably horny for him.

His face is flushed and he still has some of your juices on his chin, but his eyes burn with the depth of his want for you as your gazes meet and he smirks, smug about having made you cum.

Glancing down and seeing the tented fabric of his shorts, you lift your still shaking legs to wrap around his waist and pull him into you, rolling your hips against his clothed cock and watching his face intently.

His eyes flutter closed and he lets out a strangled moan, back bowing and lips hovering over your own as he clutches at your hips and ruts into the warmth between your legs.

“Scara, I’m all yours – take me,” you whisper, reaching up to cup his cheeks and pull his head down to kiss him.

Jolting his head back just as your lips brush his, his eyes shoot open and he pants while looking at you incredulously.

You furrow your brows at his sudden change in attitude, your thumbs lightly brushing his cheekbones and you bite your lip, suddenly afraid that you’ve said the wrong thing.

After a moment of his eyes frantically scanning your expression – looking for what exactly, you weren’t sure – his hands slam down on either side of your head.

“Always so honest about your emotions,” he hisses, eyes becoming unreadable as he nips at your lips yet refuses to let you close the gap. “It’s really fucking infuriating, you know that?”

Huffing in exasperation to hide how his seemingly indignant response hurts your feelings, you glare up at him.

“Fine, then – can you just fuck me already, Kunikuzushi?”

He pulls back, smoldering eyes glaring into your own as he releases a shattered breath in response to you calling him that name.

“Oh, now you’re making demands of me?” He rasps, regaining his composure with a harsh thrust against your cunt.

Suddenly hit with a wave of irritation and frustration, you push your hands against his chest in an attempt to get him off of you.

“If you don’t want to, then nevermind,” you mutter, turning your head away to hide the “if you don’t want me” implied from your tone and expression.

Lunging to press your wrists down into the table above your head with one hand, he turns your head back towards him with the other, a deep scowl on his face.

“Why are you putting words into my mouth? What gives you the right to assume what I do or don’t want?”

You glare at him, trying to jerk your face out of his harsh grip which only makes his fingers dig into your jaw harder as he crowds you against the table with his body.

“Stop being such a fucking brat,” he growls as he presses quick, bruising kisses against your lips.

“Make me!” You snarl back at him, body writhing under his own.

He chuckles lowly before it morphs into him laughing loudly and mockingly as he observes your struggles.

“Gladly.”

Letting go of your face to swiftly pull down his shorts just enough to free his erection, he groans as he slides it between your folds.

“Fuck… this is my pussy, it belongs to me and only me, doesn’t it?”

Whimpering and nodding in response, your hands struggle to escape his grasp as you grind your hips against the tip of his cock, trying miserably to get it to catch in your soaking wet opening.

He shudders against you, grabbing your hip with his free hand to hold you still.

“No, no,” he chides, his signature smirk back on his lips. “Only good girls get rewarded, and you’ve been such a brat.”

“Scara, fuck, just take me!” You keen, so overwhelmed with frustration and pleasure that there are tears gathering in your eyes.

Scaramouche laughs, one that borders on a cackle, before he presses his lips against your temple.

“Are you crying? You want me that bad, huh? You’re so fucking pathetic, you did this to yourself you know,” he whispers roughly, tongue flicking out to run along the shell of your ear.

“But don’t worry, I’ll take pity on you.”

He suddenly thrusts into you, bottoming out and leaving you a moaning and babbling mess as he holds himself still to allow you to adjust to his size.

“Oh Archons, please–!”

“Don’t pray to them, they can’t help you, pray to me,” he snarls, pulling out of you just enough for you to whine at the loss before roughly thrusting back inside and making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Scara, Kuni, please – fuck – more, faster!”

He grants your request with a strangled moan, hips slamming into your own at such a desperate and brutal pace that you know there’s going to be bruises.

Leaning down so your foreheads are pressed together, you stare into each other’s eyes and pant as the sound of his hips slapping against yours fills the air.

The hand that has been keeping your wrists bound lets go, fingers instead curling into the sheets as he continues his merciless thrusts – eyes observing your every reaction hungrily.

“Kuni, feels s’good!” You sob, your now free arms reaching up to wrap around his neck and your legs tightening around his hips.

“F-fuck!” He whimpers, cock twitching against your walls and hips stuttering against you.

Your body feels like it’s melting, fingers carding through his hair to shakily push it out of his face so you can view the way his brow furrows as he grits his teeth.

“Say it,” he commands shakily, jerking your face up so he can stare into your eyes. “Say that you’re mine. My slut, my whore, my everything.”

“Anything and everything that I am is yours, Kunikuzushi,” you choke out with a sob, following up your declaration by tilting your hips and pressing your lips to his, gliding your tongue in and tasting him as he groans at the feeling of your walls fluttering around his cock.

His thrusts grow even more frantic and deep and you roll your hips up to meet his movements, your sweaty bodies writhing together as you fully succumb to each other.

“I’m gonna paint your insides,” he gasps into your mouth, sliding a hand down to rub your swollen clit. “I’m gonna fill you up–!”

Those words and the added stimulation flood your body with overwhelming heat and you wail as you are thrown over the edge, gushing around his cock as he delivers one last powerful thrust before spilling into you with a choked moan.

His trembling body slumps over yours and he buries his head in your shoulder, gasping for air as your bodies continue to twitch with the aftershocks.

After a few moments pass, Scaramouche slowly peels himself away from you, his eyes darting away from your unintentionally open, loving gaze as he slowly slides out of you with a quiet grunt.

Sighing at the loss of him, you inelegantly scoot forward to hop off the table, squeezing your legs together to keep his cum from trickling down your legs.

He snatches the clothes from where they are strewn on the floor and puts his shorts back on before turning to you and holding out your panties and trousers with a blank expression.

Your face feels hot from embarrassment at how drastically his attitude has changed from just a few moments ago and you reach out to grab your clothing, eyes searching him for a sign of… anything, but finding him to be totally unreadable.

Mortified, you turn to the side and shake out your pants, the realization of what had just happened finally hitting you. You haven’t even fully undressed, too engrossed and desperate for each other that you just… went at it like animals in heat.

You don’t notice when he turns and goes to the desk in the corner to grab the box of tissues and bring it to you, clearing his throat as his eyes drift to where your combined fluids were beginning to slowly trickle down your inner thighs.

Flinching at being torn from your downward spiral of second-guessing everything that has happened within the past hour, you look up and slowly reach out to take the box from him, being careful to not brush your fingers together – you aren’t sure where his mind is at and you don’t want to scare him off by being clingy.

“Thank you,” you breathe, pulling his gaze back up to your face and flashing him a quick smile before you turn away to clean yourself up as much as you can.

He turns and walks over to stand in front of the window to give you privacy, which you find very amusing considering what you had just been doing, but you can’t help but watch him out of the corner of your eye as he crosses his arms and seemingly becomes lost in though, his hair mussed and his lips still flushed from the plethora of bruising kisses.

Finding him attractive obviously wasn’t a new development, but it suddenly hits you with the beam of sunlight shining in through the window that was illuminating him just how… beautiful he is.

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts and hurrying to pull your clothes back on, you take a deep breath and summon all the courage you possess.

He turns to look at you as you come to stand next to him, and you were hit once again by how pretty he is; the slope of his nose, his eyelashes, his–

“What are you looking at?” His voice, still a little rough from your activities, snaps you out of your admiration and you blink at him.

He’s staring at you with his brow raised, lips ever so slightly turned down.

“So pretty,” you whisper, eyes widening in panic when you realize that you’ve spoken your inner thoughts aloud.

Scaramouche blinks at you in disbelief, processing your words before letting out a short, humorless laugh.

“I can’t believe it, I actually fucked you dumb!” He snickers, but the smirk on his lips doesn’t reach his eyes.

You gape at him, mouth opening and closing as you try to figure out how to respond to his dismissive attitude.

He grasps your chin in his hand, making the decision of closing your mouth for you, and rolls his eyes.

Grabbing the hand holding your chin, you place soft kisses on his palm, staring into his eyes and pleading for him to understand how truthful you’re being.

Scowling, he wrenches his hand away from you, taking a step back and shaking his head.

“Scara, we need to talk ab–”

“Do we? I disagree,” he snaps, turning and stalking towards the door.

“Kunikuzushi,” you whisper in desperation, and he freezes in place as he’s reaching for the door handle.

“This whole situation started because I was avoiding you, and it made you angry and upset. And yet you’re about to go and do the exact same thing to me. How is that fair?” You demand, voice shaking from all of the emotions you’re trying to keep in check.

He slowly turns to face you, eyes narrowing.

“Life isn’t fair – what do you want from me?”

It’s like you’re talking to a different person, the man in front of you is not the man that railed you into oblivion and ruined you for all others just a minute ago. This man reminds you of a feral cat – suspicious, mistrustful, insecure…

Your hands are shaking, the anxiety over bearing your heart to him causing you to hesitate briefly.

“What do you want from me?” You snap back. “Is this what you wanted? Just a quick fuck? Is that really all I am to you? Some poor, pathetic sap who’s attention and affection makes you feel good about yourself?”

Scaramouche stood there staring at you, unmoving and unblinking, for what felt like ages.

“Okay, you know what – nevermind! You’re free to go, but honestly at this point I almost hope that you just never come back,” you scoff, eyes watering, throwing your hands up in the air and turning away so he can’t see you cry and so you don’t have to look at his stupid perfect face anymore.

All you hear is a faint whisper of fabric before he spins you around and cups your face in his hands, his mouth pressing a desperate, bruising kiss to your lips.

Gasping, you put your hands on his chest and shove him back, your embarrassment making you feel fragile and hostile.

“That isn’t an answer, Scara, and I’m not a mind reader so I can’t–”

“Everything,” he rasps, closing his eyes and nudging his forehead against yours.

“... what?” You furrow your brow, confused.

“You asked what I wanted from you. I answered. Everything. I want everything from you. I want you to be mine,” he whispers, warm breath brushing your lips when he follows up his statement with a shaking sigh.

Your bottom lip trembles as you try to keep your voice from cracking with emotion.

“If I am yours, then you have to be mine. I want everything from you, too. I want to kiss you, touch you, hold you, love you.”

He inhales shakily, opening his eyes.

“If you can’t tell that I’m already yours, that I’ve been yours since you aimed that fucking smile of yours towards me, then you’re an absolute fucking idiot.”

“It’s kind of hard to tell when you’re always so wishy-washy on whether you tolerate me or not, Scaramouche,” you respond, blinking at him innocently, his sudden reveal of his feelings giving you courage.

“What did I say about calling me that?” He growls, stepping closer to press himself against you.

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir – is Kunikuzushi acceptable then?” You simper, mimicking his usual smirk to the best of your ability.

His eyes widen and his cheeks and ears flush a faint pink as he grumbles, dropping his arms to wrap them around your waist.

“Keep it up and I’ll have to drag you to your bedroom and teach you a lesson, brat,” he growls, pressing his mouth to your ear.

You turn your head to press a kiss to his neck, grinning uncontrollably now as you both shift seamlessly back into the dynamic that had been created when he had gotten settled in your group – the usual snarky banter and the easy affection you give him comforting after the unsureness that was present just now.

“Is that a threat or a promise? Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

He huffs and rolls his eyes, pulling away to grasp your arm and drag you out of the room.

“Wait, what–?” You stammer, following him gracelessly.

“It seems that I still have to teach you some fucking manners, slut.”

Glancing back at you as he leads you through the door, the look in his eyes and his smirk makes your face heat.

“But you’ll be a good girl and cooperate with me, won’t you?”

You swallow, overwhelmed with all of the filthy thoughts that run through your mind before you shake your head to ground yourself.

It had required a lot of vulnerability and a rollercoaster of emotions, but you finally know your feelings are reciprocated… and as you let him take you to your room you realized that Scaramouche was about to show you just how much in long, excruciatingly wonderful detail.

© kaeyaphile | tamrielic – please do not modify, repost, plagiarize and/or claim any of my work as your own and please do not promote any of my works on other social media platforms (tiktok, facebook, wattpad, etc.)

130 notes · View notes

scorpioriesling · 10 hours

Note

May I please politely beg for a fic based on the Eris bc post you did? It was so good and I’d love to see him confront Rhys + co and taking care/loving reader

I’m the “Bad Guy”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Eris x reader

Warnings: some graphic-ish injury

Summary: Eris Vanserra; he was your… what? Enemy? Ally? Both? Sort of — at least, that’s what Rhysand says, and whatever your High Lord says, goes. But, Eris saw you for more than anyone in your court ever could, and deep down you knew he had one more title, reserved for just you: true love. What happens when you’re in danger, and he’s the first and only one you go running to?

SR’s Note: Yes you absolutely can have a fic based on Eris’ HC in this post. No need to beg — I’m happy to oblige. Here it is, I hope you like it. xoxo

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

The fire crackled and burned in the fireplace, embers creating a soft glow in the darkened sitting room. Eris was alone, lounging on the sofa in the Forest House, his newest read in hand. He liked spending his time this way — alone, reading, warm. He felt… content.

Little did he know, you’d quite enjoyed your evenings the same way.

Sure, he knew you shared an interest in reading. That’s where he usually found you when he’d visit the Night Court — shelf combing in the library of the House of Wind; curled in a chair, a different book to read each time he would see you again; sometimes, you’d even be caught talking about your favorite ones with Nesta. You quite enjoyed her, as well as her company and character, as she was very honest and real with you.

Yet, another thing in you’d shared in common.

On this particular evening though, the sun had already long set and the stars were sprinkling the sky when Eris felt his body tense on instinct. He had suddenly lost interest in what he was reading when he heard a commotion coming from outside. Well, not a commotion, but rather some sort of… crying. Whimpering, rather. He straightened in his chair, straining his ears to hear what was happening beyond the windows of the Forest House.

Usually, when this happened, it was the work of Beron — some cruel or unusual punishment that Eris had learned long ago to stay out of. Recently, tensions were running high with the Night Court; though Eris was still secretly meeting with them, it didn’t change that his father wanted to sever all ties with the solar court completely.

But this… this time, it was different.

“Please… please…”

Eris’ heartstrings pulled in his chest as he strained to listen, wanting to make any excuse or reason for his ears to be deceiving him.

But, he knew in his heart, they were not.

In an instant, he’d snapped his novel shut and was racing toward the front door. He threw it open, rounding the corner of the house and bolting for the enormous hedge maze in the backyard of the grounds. He wasn’t sure exactly what had come over him; on any other day, he’d leave you to suffer as he would the other Night Court Inner Circle members. But the squeeze of barbed wire around his heart propelled him forward.

He knew you were here. He knew it was you that needed him.

It was an odd feeling, tearing around corners in search of the one woman he’d thought over and over about torturing. He’d thought of you crying. He’d thought about how he could hurt you. Did that make him a bad person? Maybe. So be it. You weren’t perfect either. Over the last few years, he’d even thought of how he’d kill you himself — just, once, he’d thought of this. It was during a meeting with the entire Inner Circle, of course; Eris was present. He’d arrived early and heard you, again, talking to Nesta about your ideas on strategy and negotiation. Though you were speaking of ideas that would affect him directly, he didn’t care — the ideas were good. Nesta wasn’t shy to give credit where it was due, either.

But, none of that mattered because during the meeting, you hadn’t opened your mouth once or said a word about your ideas. You’d tried to interject, actually — but Rhysand was quick to silence you.

But how did you handle that?

Like a good pet would. You sat, and stayed silent. Just like you always did. You’d never challenge your High Lord, oh Cauldron no — he could just simply use you as a doormat, and it wouldn’t matter.

Maybe that’s what pissed Eris off so badly.

He knew what you were capable of, what you had to offer, and what you were worth; but it seemed that most of the Inner Circle didn’t bat an eye at you, especially Rhys, whom you bowed to and that was that. Your talents could be used for so much more, but you always stayed within the guidelines in which you were allowed.

“Please… Eris…someone help me…”

Eyes straining in the night, Eris followed your pained cries until he found you in the middle of the maze. You were slumped against the large marble water fountain, breathing unevenly as blood stained your neck. Drying crimson flakes dirtied your usually vibrant tendrils, and your hands braced over your abdomen, hot tears creating tracks down your dirtied face.

"Oh my Gods..." He rushed to you, and you peered up at him in desperation. His heart split in two, seeing you crumpled and hurt in front of him as he took in your appearance in full.

But, his sadness turned very quickly, to anger. You laid, panting and in pain, in his court, on his grounds. No explanation, no one coming to help you. He felt... violent.

He knelt down to your level, leaning in and stretching a hand out to trail over your face, registering the blood pouring from inside your lip. He then reached up to move your hair from your forehead -- a huge gash the cause for the ever growing maroon pool you two were in.

Well, one of the causes. Your hands still covered your stomach.

He was fuming, hands trembling as he tried to stay gentle with you, but absolute rage filled his every vein at how this could have happened to you.

Who could've let this happen to you.

"Eris, I..." you coughed, a few blood-tainted drops landing on the stone pathway below. "I... I didn't mean to... this is the first place I thought of..." another loud sob wretched from you, and Eris cupped your cheek, his thumb stroking over the bone. You relaxed a bit at his touch, though he usually appeared so tense and malicious. When he looked into your eyes again, his whiskey irises were dulled to a deep bourbon, and his jaw was clenched tight.

"Come with me."

He stood then and wrapped his arms around your knees and lower back, scooping you up and carrying you as carefully as he could back to his wing of the Forest House. You let out a few small yelps here and there as the searing pain in your stomach was getting to be too much to handle.

"Please, stay with me Y/N," he pleaded, looking down at you sorrowfully. Your usually soft eyes met his, and his wire-wrapped heart strained once more. He’d felt as though he was carrying a small, injured deer -- that is what you were in his eyes. A gentle, wise, little doe. His little doe.

Whatever he’d been feeling before, it was long gone. The only thoughts clouding his mind were ones of keeping you safe, helping you in every way he could, and providing you with everything you could need.

Little did he realize, you just needed him. Wasn’t that why you were there in the first place?

When Eris had finally made it inside, he sat you gently on the sofa in front of the fireplace, and ran to the washroom. It wasn’t long before he’d returned, presenting a small wet cloth in one hand and taking your chin between his fingers kindly in the other. He began to wipe away the trailing stains all over your delicate skin, trying so hard to stay gentle with you; trying to replicate the softness you'd always offerred others. He felt better seeing you relax into his touch a bit as he continued to work.

But, that's one thing you didn't have in common. He wasn't soft, or sweet like you. It was one thing he pretended to hate; he “hated” your kindness to everyone, even his father, of all people. He “hated” your soft voice, one he wasn’t used to hearing all that often. He also “hated” your gentle loving nature — so, so much he “hated” it.

He tried to steady his breathing, gazing into your round, watery eyes to attempt to ground his senses and avoid thinking about punishing whoever hurt you like this. It only caused him more agony, watching as you tried to hold back your tears. Wiping away the last of the blood from your hairline, he dropped his head for a moment, raking a hand through his hair.

“I can’t stall for you any longer, love.” He said softly. Your stomach muscles continued to tense under your palms, and you watched as he rolled a clean cloth between his hands.

"I’m going to put this,” he held up the rolled cloth.

“In here," he tucked it into your open mouth. You closed your mouth over it, so usually defiant towards your “sworn enemy”, but, really...

You'd do anything he asked of you.

His hands moved to cover your bloody ones, still clutching at your stomach.

"Y/N... you’re going to have to move your hands." He says. Your eyes screw shut as you groan, fresh pain raging from the wound in your abdomen. Eris sighs, looking to you with pleading eyes.

“Please, Y/N… you have to help me help you.” His thumbs stroke over your knuckles, now covered in your blood — and you begin to remove your hands shakily. He breathes a sharp gasp as he sees your laceration in full, and shakes his head slowly. He sits back on his knees, positioning himself between yours.

"Hold onto me." He says. You look to him in confusion, and he places your clammy fingers on his shoulders. One of his hands lingers on yours for a moment, and he pressed the inside of your wrist to his lips. He looks back to you, eyes already asking for forgiveness.

"I'll be honest,” he begins. “I've thought about hurting you before, as you've hurt me," he says, voice deep with ... something. Something you couldn't place. You could barely focus on his words as your mind started to fog over, your vision clouding with black spots. "...but never like this."

He sighs one last time, a hand coming into view between your knees, his fingers ablaze with his gift of fire. You immediately sit up, or try to anyway -- a sob racks your chest, muffled by the cloth, and Eris holds you down, hand splayed over your sternum.

"Hold onto me." He says again, his tone warning. His fingers meets your bubbling would, flames searing the skin as a scream tears through your dry, cracked throat, only quieted by the cloth you’re biting down on. Your eyes blow wide, and you squirm under his hold. He looks at you with regret, pulling back for just a moment — only to press heat onto your would again within seconds.

Your hands claw at the collar of his white button down, red already smeared over most of it. He huffs an apologetic sigh, continuing to carterize your open would, flames stinging and burning your sensitive flesh.

Over. Over. Over again.

You tilt your head back, the familiar weightless feeling becoming all too apparent. You felt it coming; you were going to black out. His once-white collar begins to slip from your fingers, and your eyes meet his one last time before glazing over as you slink into darkness.

: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ

Soft streams of sunlight bathe the room in a golden glow when you open your eyes again. You register the feeling of comfy, loose-fitting pants amid the cool, mahogany silk sheets you’re enveloped in. You blink a few times, and reach a hand up to rub the sleep from your eyes.

When your eyes adjust, you realize what’s so different; everything. The sun is illuminating from a window. A window across this… bedroom, with a four poster oak bed. A bed with mahogany sheets, a stark contrast to your usual lilac ones at home — as well as the teakwood bookshelf along the far wall. At least those are familiar, most of the titles. One novel is laying on the window seat; it’s one you’d just finished last week.

Then, the realization hits you; you were in Eris' room.

You try to sit up, but cry out in pain and end up laying back down, head flopping against the plush pillows under your head. Your hands instinctively reach toward your stomach, tugging at the hem of the tank top you donned. A thick bandage was wrapped around your midsection, concealing your abdominal injury. Your mind wandered to last night, what you'd endured, winnowing to the Autumn Court, the burning...

Within moments, Eris appeared in the doorway, concern threading his brows together as he looks you up and down.

"Is everything alright?" In three steps, he’s made it to the bed, taking a seat on the edge of it. He pulls the covers up, tucking them around you in comfort. You shake your head in honesty, silver lining your eyes as they meet his.

He knew you’d be honest with him. Yet, another thing he “hated” about you.

"I... they took me last night." You manage to choke out. Eris readjusts to face you, scooting closer and reaching out a hand to stroke through your hair. He bites on his lower lip, eyes searching yours.

"Who. Who took you Y/N." He says. It sounds like more of a demand than a question.

You shake your head, a tear slipping free as you remember being kidnapped from your bed and tossed onto the mountainside. The feeling of freezing snow under your knees, the jagged rocks slicing into your palms would only be the beginning of the pain you'd endure before somehow winnowing away.

"It was... they wanted me to partake in the..." you swallow, the lump in your throat only growing as a tear slips free. Usually, he’d be the type to taunt you for crying or appearing so weak, but Eris only brushes his thumb against your cheek, wiping the tear away.

"The fucking Blood Rite." He bites out. Anger radiates off of him, the small fire in the fireplace near the window growing with each passing second. The muscles in his jaw feathers as his eyes train on yours, and you nod in confirmation. His other hand rests on yours clasped atop the sheets, and you can’t help but register the heat he is emitting just from a few small touches.

He sighs, hanging his head low and shaking it. When he makes eye contact again, he holds your hands reassuringly in his. “Y/N, I’m going to ask you one more time. Who. Did. This. To you.” You can practically see the flames dancing in his irises, and you lean forward a touch, almost nose to nose. His strong scent of cinnamon and burnt timber wafts through your senses, and you feel a small tug on your heartstrings.

“Eris, look it’s not anyone’s fault, okay? I mean, well, it is…” you begin. “I was sleeping over at the House of Wind with Nesta and Gwyn and Emerie, and… oh, uh and the guys were there too, for most of the night. Cass, Azriel. Ya know.” You explain. He nods for you to continue.

“Well, we were just having a nice time and when we went to sleep, I don’t know I just… one minute I was asleep and the next, I had a mask on my eyes and someone was… uh…. mm… uhm covering my mouth and… Nesta was screaming-“ you hadn’t noticed your hands beginning to shake again, until Eris locked his fingers with yours. You took a steadying breath, but the shaking only decreased a little as you still remembered the horrors of the night prior.

“So… Cassian and Azriel. They were supposed to be watching you.” Eris says evenly. You look at him incredulously.

“Watching? Oh, hardly. I mean, we’re not eight years old, Eris.” You explain. He nods, biting the inside of his cheek.

“It seems a little chat is in order.” Your eyes widen, and your hand braces on his bicep. He glances down to it, then back to you, nose still just inches from yours.

“No! Uh… I mean, no. Please.” You say. “They haven’t done anything wrong, and-“

“I’d hardly say allowing for you to be kidnapped for the damned Blood Rite is an inexcusable offense.” He interrupts. You narrow your eyes at him.

“Andddd, I shouldn’t have been allowed to winnow at the Blood Rite. Anyone found using their powers or plotting to escape the rite once it’s begun is…” you trail off. He nods. He knows; it’s an executable offense.

“How were you able to winnow, anyway? I thought powers weren’t able to be used on Romiel during the Blood Rite,” he asks, quirking a brow. You shrug, wincing and regretting the movement.

“I don’t know… maybe since no one knows I am capable of winnowing, they didn’t think it’d be necessary to remove said powers from me? I don’t know Eris, I don’t know how all this works.” You say. Eris only seems to become more troubled by your response.

“So… they didn’t teach you to winnow, you just… did it… and they didn’t think you could do anything with your powers, so much so that no one bothered to remove them?” His voice pitches, and you nod.

“I suppose.” He slips his hand from yours, standing and straightening his shirt.

“Eris, where are you-“

“I’m only doing you justice. You’ll thank me later, dove.”

: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ

“What are you doing out of bed?”

You hear him before you see him. When you turn from your spot at the stovetop, Eris is leaned in the doorframe, a cocky grin on his lips. You roll your eyes.

“Well, smart guy,” you say. “You left me for half the day and didn’t feed me. So, I forced myself up and… went on a little scavenger hunt to the kitchen.” You say simply. He scoffs and strides over to you, stopping to lean against the counter. You turn to face him, and he glances at your bandage.

“How are you feeling?” he asks. You take his hand in yours, and his eyes gaze into yours in silent question. You press his palm to your side, and smile softly at him.

“Stronger than you thought, hmm?” You say with a wink. His eyes soften, and a little smile plays on his lips as his other hand braces your other hip bone. He pulls you close, so close your pelvis is touching his upper thighs. You peer up at him through your lashes as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“You’ve always been the strongest woman I know.”

You blush at his words, finally accepting what you’ve been running from all along; you care for Eris. Truly, you did. Why else would you winnow here, of all places? Why else would you feel a familiar tug on your heart strings when he was around?

You cared.

And, Cauldron behold; he did too.

“And… you had to show me how strong you were today?” You ask, tone low. Eris rolls his eyes.

“All I did was go over there, and demand to know why the hell they’d allow for you to be kidnapped in your own home-“ You gasp and swat his arm lightly.

“Eris!” You scold. He grins down at you, taking your face in his hands and looking at you lovingly.

“Maybe I should irritate you more… look at you, taking initiative and putting me in my place.” He chuckles. Your face reddens, and you stare at him wide-eyed as he runs his knuckles down your jaw, his cool silver ring easing the burning hot you feel beneath your cheek.

“Maybe I should do what I’m suppos-“ Eris cuts you off with a tsk tsk tsk, pulling you in close and finally pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You part your lips, fingers caressing his jaw and threading through his hair as his lips dance with yours. His fingers trail from your cheek down to your waist, holding you close as one hand runs up and down your side; grabbing firmly when your teeth graze his bottom lip. He pulls away, breathless as he supplies you a feline grin.

“Now, where is the fun in that?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

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jay7543 · 21 hours

Note

How about Ghost w/soldier!m!reader who is also a secret p★?

— 🥩

Ghost finds out you’re a P⭐️

18+

M4m

This is a great idea, I really like it. It is similar to my konig and ghost only fans one but I’ll try to make it different enough just for you!!! Mr…slab of meat? I’m not entirely sure what that means honestly, as of now I’ll take it as a calling card lol.

Might make a part 2 to this

Ever since you were young you realized you’d been blessed by god, you had a really big cock. The handful of girls you dated in high school were way to intimidated by it, and that left you really lonely, so you gravitated more to porn and sex toys. Eventually, you realized you’d be a really good porn star! But…you had other plans, you wanted to join the military, you always wanted to. To be a true American soldier, you loved it, but, you still couldn’t scratch that itch of showing off your cock to people, other than the hand, and mouthful of times you and your buddies in basic got curious. So you had the great idea to start making videos when you were on leave, you lived alone so it wasn’t a problem, you had plenty of toys you could fuck till they tore, and you even bought a few dildos, mainly for sucking, thanks to your buddies you realized you had an affinity for it.

After a few months of making videos when you were on leave, you actually started making money off it! And a lot of views, mainly guys. And as all this success happened, you also got promoted, you got moved to a special international squad, that’s where you met ghost. On your first day, fresh out the truck, you knew something was up.

Reader-“hello sir, I’m your new addition”

You say to ghost as you salute. He eyes you a bit weird, you assume maybe it’s because you’re American, or maybe he just didn’t like you

Ghost-“at ease. Do I…know you from somewhere? I feel like I recognize your voice”

He says with a suspicious look in his eyes, his mask covering the rest of his face.

Reader-“I-no sir, I don’t think so”

You were confused for a moment, then you remembered. You did a lot of dirty talk in those videos even though you never showed the top half of your face, and your voice is pretty distinct. Has he seen your videos…

Ghost-“well, anyway, you’re dismissed, go find your room”

He walks away, mumbling to himself. You shake off the awkwardness of your first interaction with him and head to your assigned room.

Later that day you decide to upload a picture to your account, still in your uniform, on the other side of base, ghost gets a notification on his phone. When he sees it he realizes his suspicions have been confirmed, you’re the amateur gay pornstar he watches…that’s gonna be an awkward conversation. He starts walking to where your room is.

It’s only been a little bit since you’ve arrived, you’ve just now finished unpacking when you hear a knock. You go over and open it

Reader-“oh, sir what-“

He covers your mouth and pushes you back into your room and locks your door

Ghost-“don’t be loud, I knew i recognized you. You just posted a picture didn’t you mate”

Your eyes widen and your face goes red, all while his hand is covering your mouth, you nod

Ghost-“thought so, well…I’m gonna take my hand off now”

He slowly takes his hand off your mouth, you can’t help but pant a bit, and a line of spit comes out of your mouth, sticking to his hand. He already turned you on. You wipe your mouth

Reader-“well uh, this is awkward”

You say nervously

Ghost-“a bit, yeah. But, I think this could be good”

He says with a hint of mischief in his voice.

Reader-“what?”

Ghost-“well, I’ve seen all your videos, hell I was one of your first followers. I know how good you can suck cock, and I kinda wanna see that ass of yours too”

He puts a hand on your shoulder and gently pushes you to your knees with absolutely no resistance from you, you’re already turned on, and now you really wanna suck some cock.

Reader-“I-yeah, I’d be ok with that”

Your face sits only inches away from his bulge, you can smell it through his pants, so manly, so intoxicating.

Ghost-“good”

He grabs the hem of his pants and yanks them down, letting his cock spring out, it was nice, really nice, and it smelled even better outside his pants. It was a bit smaller than yours but still, his balls looked so full, you just had to give it a taste. You lean in and start licking and sucking on his balls. Ghost lets out a deep moan and chuckle.

Ghost-“wow, that easy huh. I expected to have to blackmail you or something”

You pull your mouth off his balls

Reader-“na, me and a few buddies in basic got curious, I’m told I’m really good”

I wrap my lips around his throbbing tip and start gulping down his cock.

Ghost-“fuck mate they were right”

He grunts out as your mouth moves up and down the length of his shaft. You reach down and start rubbing yourself through your pants as your erection grows more and more.

Ghost-“pull your pants down, I wanna see it, I’ve seen it in the videos, I wanna see it in person”

You moan and nod as you keep sucking and pull down your pants enough for your cock to pop out, ghost whistles

Ghost-“bloody hell mate, it’s way bigger in person”

You chuckle a bit as you keep sucking him,youI start to stroke yourself

Ghost-“fuuuuck, this is so hot”

You chuckle and take his cock deeper into your mouth, making him growl as he feels his tip hit the back of your throat, he holds your head in place, making your throat spasm on his cock. As you start to gag and choke he pulls away.

Ghost-“bloody hell, how lucky am I to get a cock slut like you”

He chuckles and pulls you to your feet, you two now standing face to face, cock to cock. You both leak streams of pre cum as he reaches for your cock and starts to stroke it while he stares into your eyes.

Ghost-“I wanna feel this monster cum. You hear that soldier?”

You nod and moan as you feel his firm grip around your throbbing, hot length.

Ghost-“I didn’t hear you soldier”

Reader-“yes sir”

Ghost-“louder!”

Reader-“yes sir!”

You yell as he squeezes your cock, making your balls tighten while you finally spew out your scalding hot cum onto his hand, his arm, and even some on his abs.

Ghost-“wow, that was a huge load”

He says as he pulls his hand up to his face, pulls his mask up, and licks your cum off his hand with a smirk on his face.

Reader-“i-I’ve been pretty pent up lately”

Ghost chuckles

Ghost-“I can see that”

He pushes you back into your bed

Ghost-“now it’s my turn to-“

He gets cut off by his radio

Radio-“ghost? Where the hell are you? These damn recruits need some discipline, get you ass here”

Ghost groans and leans away from you, his cock still out and throbbing

Ghost-“I’m on my way, give me a few”

He looks back down at you with an angry look on his face before leaning down and shoving a finger into your ass.

Ghost-“next time I’m taking this hole, got it?”

Reader-“yes sir”

You say, still out of breath. Ghost chuckles and kisses you before pulling his finger out, pulling his pants up and leaving the room. He’ll be back, you know he will, and you can’t wait.

#cod x reader #smut #18+ only #simon ghost riley #m4m #bisexual #gay #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x male reader #cod smut #cod fanfic #fanfic #ghost x you #ghost smut #ghost cod

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tiredofthehumanlife · 3 days

Text

Lobsters

Barbie Dolls: Remus lupin x reader

word count: barely 800

summary : Sometimes you cant find the right word in english so remus helps you find the jar’s hat

warning: google translate frencch, Im sorry i only know two languages (americccan english and americcan sign language so), metions of sex but you litterally just told remus no more intercccourse, youre frenccch now, thats all boo

request: yes how’d you know (get out of my walls)

Remus was spectacular, really. He was quite supportive. He’d make you breakfast, stock the pantry of your snacks, nod along when you’d get frustrated and fully slip into French, and he put your socks in the hamper. You liked how everything was just simple with him. It was a bit of a struggle sometimes being a household with multiple languages under the roof. Sometimes the words would just float away from you, leaving their taste in your mouth, with no idea what word you were searching for.

You stared in frustration at the glass jar in your hand. In the process of making you and Remus dinner, you misplaced the top to the jar of pasta sauce. Even worse you couldn’t remember the name you were searching for. You groaned, considered slamming your head on the cabeintet, and started searching through the drawers. Maybe you left it when you were picking out another instrument? Slamming the third drawer shut, you moved to the next.

“Is there a burglar in here? Why are we slamming things?” Remus said, announcing his presence. You turned around and glared at him. His chiper tone frustrating you more.

“I can’t find the-“ You paused, waiting for the word to come to you. “-Thing!” You threw both your hands at the counter, more so at the jar. Remus turned his head, scanning the counter. It was a mess, making it even harder to find what you were talking about. He hummed.

“The thing.”

“Are you mocking me? If you are I’ll smother you tonight with your pillow, trust.” Remus quickly shook his head at you.

“No, baby. No, I’d never. I'm just a little lost.” Remus muttered. You grimaced, your frustration tiring you. You slumped into a nearby chair.

“What are we looking for?” Remus asked, trying to bring you back to the original topic. You pointed to the pasta sauce jar.

“the jar.” You stated plainly, wanting to just sit in a dark room for a minute.

“Well, darling, I found it.” Remus picked it off the counter and handed it to you. He had a grin on that showed he was proud of his joke. You took the jar out of his hands and held it up to his face.

“I can’t find his hat.” Remus stared at you a moment. You could see the cogs behind his eyes turning. He turned around and started sifting through the mess on the counter again. You set the jar on the table staring at it with death behind your eyes. Remus made a triumphant trumpet sound with his mouth before holding out the circular tin piece out to you.

“I found the lid.” You smacked your lips.

“Lid, mère de Dieu, comme c'est stupide.” You muttered, turning the lid onto the jar. Remus nodded, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Tell me about it.” You glared at him, stupid loving boyfriend.

“ 'm not having sex with you for two weeks.” Remus scoffed at you. His hand shot to his chest, clutching his pearls.

“I found your lid.” You shoved him lightly, back towards the hall he came from. Remus came back to you giving you a light peck.

“I love you,” Remus muttered. You nodded.

“I love you, too.” You grumbled. Remus snorted at you. He squeezed your shoulder lightly.

“Oh please contain your excitement.” you shrugged his hand off your shoulder.

“If you don't leave, I'm going to burn the food.” Remus threw his hands up.

“Or lose the jar's hat again,” Remus whispered, in a teasing tone.

“Je vais te tuer,” you said in a cherry tone, giving Remus a big smile. Remus grinned cluelessly.

“Love it when you talk sexy,” Remus whispered, leaning in for another kiss. You indulged him, lightly pressing your lips to his. Remus slowly pulled away, wanting the kiss to last years. You pecked the corner of his lips before turning back to the pot. Remus smiled at you.

“You know, I’ve actually been learning a little French.” You glanced at Remus out of the corner of your eye.

“For me?” Remus nodded, moving behind you to wrap his arms around you.

“euh je t'aime mon homard” Remus whispered to you, stuttering over his words and vowels. You felt your heart warm at his attempt. You wanted to laugh at him, but you knew you shouldn’t. You hummed, leaning your head back against his shoulder.

“Je t'aime aussi, tu es mon homard préféré,” You muttered as you continued working on dinner.

“I know some of those words mean you love me so that’s enough for me,” Remus muttered into your neck. You smiled. You thought about getting a picture of a lobster framed and not explaining it to Remus at all. You could hang it above the couch in the living room. Maybe add a few colors to the background to make it a little more abstract.

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #remus x you #remus x reader #marauders era #marauders #the maraunders map #dead gay wizards #marauders fic #the marauders era #the marauders #are those all my tags #well anyway

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massivedrickhead · 3 days

Note

If it hasn’t been asked yet, I’d love to see what you come up with for the “I’m not gonna yell at you” prompt!

Thanks so much for sending this, I hope you like it!

“I’m not going to yell at you.”

Prompt taken from here

Read on AO3

TW: abuse is alluded to

The sound of smashing glass and a startled yelp caused Beca to look up from her phone and frown.

She shoved it into her pocket and entered the kitchen, where she saw Chloe picking shards of glass up from the floor.

“What happened?” Beca asked, causing Chloe to jump which then caused the shard of glass to slip in her hand and slice into her thumb.

“Shit,” Chloe muttered as blood began to well up in the cut the glass had left.

“Oh crap, I’m sorry,” Beca said.

Chloe shook her head and turned on the faucet before sticking her thumb underneath the running water. “It’s my fault,” Chloe said. “I was being careless, I’m sorry.”

“Are you… apologising for cutting yourself?” Beca asked, her brows pulled together in confusion.

“No,” Chloe said. “I’m apologising for breaking one of your glasses.”

“Oh,” Beca said. “It’s fine, it was an accident. I’m more worried about you, are you okay?”

“I should have been more careful,” Chloe said as if Beca hadn’t said anything. “You were kind enough to let me stay with you and here I am smashing up your stuff and-”

“Chloe,” Beca said, placing her hand on Chloe’s arm. “It was one glass. All my shit is Ikea, it isn’t expensive. And even if it was, it’s not like you did it on purpose.”

“I just don’t want you to be mad or yell or something,” Chloe said, turning off the faucet and gingerly inspecting her cut thumb.

“I’m not mad, and I’m not going to yell at you,” Beca said, handing her a paper towel. “I’d never yell at you.”

Chloe pressed the paper towel against her thumb. The bleeding seemed to have stopped, but it still stung. “I know that,” she said. “Logically, I know that.” She sighed. “He’s still rattling around in my head.”

Beca pulled her teeth across her bottom lip and exhaled through her nose.

She didn’t need to ask who Chloe was talking about.

“Of course he is,” Beca said softly. “After everything that happened, how could he not be?”

“What he did… I know you’d never do that to me,” Chloe said. “I know that. It’s just… Sometimes I forget that it’s all over.”

“I wish I could fix it for you,” Beca said. “Undo all the damage he did.”

“I know,” Chloe said, giving Beca a smile so small it was hardly there at all. “You can’t fix it, but you are helping.”

“Yeah?”

Chloe nodded, and her smile grew just a fraction.

Beca smiled back at her. “Good,” she said. She grabbed the dustpan and brush from the cupboard under the sink and shooed Chloe backwards and away from the shards of broken glass. “You wanna go pick a movie to watch with dinner? The pizza should be here soon,” she asked, sweeping the shards of glass into the dustpan.

“You hate movies,” Chloe said.

“Yeah, but you don’t,” Beca replied. She tipped the glass into the trash and dusted her hands against her jeans. “I’m willing to do a lot of things for you, Chloe Beale, and watching movies is definitely one of them.”

Chloe grinned, kissed Beca on the cheek, and headed into the living room.

Once Chloe was out of sight, Beca gently touched the spot on her cheek which felt like it was burning. She sighed, closed her eyes, and then shook herself out of it.

She grabbed the vacuum cleaner from the hall closet and vacuumed the spot where the glass had smashed. She tried to hold onto that brief glimpse she’d gotten of the old Chloe - the Chloe who wasn’t so nervous, and jumpy, and unnecessarily apologetic.

She tried to ignore the memory of the Chloe who’d arrived at her apartment last month. Shaking and crying and apologising for turning up in the middle of the night. She couldn’t ignore it though. The memory came back to her during every quiet moment. She was sure she’d never forget it as long as she lived.

“Please can I stay? Chicago, he’s…”

“Bec?”

“Huh?”

“You’ve vacuumed that same spot like ten times, I think the glass is gone,” Chloe said, leaning against the doorway to the living room.

“Right,” Beca said, shaking her head slightly and forcing out a chuckle. “Did you pick something?”

“I seem to remember you telling me you’d never seen Sister Act, and I think that we need to fix that,” Chloe said, tapping the remote control against the heel of her hand. She opened her mouth to say more, but the apartment buzzer went off and she jumped, sending the remote control clattering to the floor.

“I’m sure it’s just the pizza guy,” Beca said. She pressed the button on the intercom and asked who was there.

“Alfredo’s,” a bored voice replied. “Got an order for Beca Mitchell.”

“I stand corrected,” Beca said. “It’s the pizza gal. I’m gonna grab it, the elevator’s still out and I don’t have a tip big enough for them to climb four flights of stairs. Will you be okay?”

Chloe, who had been staring into space, focused her eyes on Beca, and she gave a tight-lipped smile and nodded.

When Beca left the apartment, Chloe forced herself to take a steadying breath.

She was getting tired of this. The jumpiness, the anxiety, it was all so exhausting.

She just wanted to feel like herself again.

She wanted to go back in time so that the last two years hadn’t happened.

She wished she’d made a different decision that final night of the USO tour.

Chloe was still staring into space when Beca returned.

“They need to fix that elevator,” Beca said, shutting the door behind her with a huff. “I almost had to stop halfway and set up base camp.”

Chloe laughed, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Plate or just out of the box?” Beca asked.

“Box is fine,” Chloe replied.

Beca nodded and carried the box through to the living room. “Come on,” she said. “I hear we have some singing nuns to watch.”

Beca was almost asleep when the credits rolled, and Chloe lifted her head from Beca’s shoulder to hit stop.

“I gotta admit, that was pretty good,” Beca said, yawning and stretching.

“Told you,” Chloe replied.

“I’m gonna call it,” Beca said, checking her watch. “I have to be at work crazy early tomorrow for some big meeting.”

As Beca was about to stand, Chloe put her hand on her arm to stop her.

“Chlo’?”

“I just… I can’t thank you enough, Beca. For everything you’ve done… Everything you’re doing… I’ll never be able to repay you for it.”

“You don’t have to repay me,” Beca said. “And you don’t have to thank me. I just wish I’d known sooner. I wish I’d seen it before…” Beca trailed off, that image of Chloe crying at her door floating back into her mind. “I’m sorry that I didn’t see it.”

“You’ve got nothing to apologise for,” Chloe said. “You literally saved my life.”

Beca let out a quick breath through her nose and ran a hand through her hair, shaking it out as she tried not to let her eyes fill with tears. “I’m so glad you’re here, Chloe. I don’t ever want you to think otherwise.”

“I’m glad I’m here too,” Chloe said, allowing Beca to pull her into a hug. They stayed like that for a while until Chloe spoke again. “I’ve been having nightmares,” she said. “I think that’s why I’ve been so clumsy, I haven’t been sleeping well. Do you think… Could I stay with you tonight?”

“You don’t even have to ask,” Beca said.

Chloe let out a breath of relief and hugged Beca even tighter.

“Thank you,” she said. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Luckily you’ll never need to find out.”

#bechloe #bechloe fanfic #bechloe fic #bechloe fanfiction #bechloe prompt #bechloe hurt/comfort #pitch perfect fanfiction #pitch perfect fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #beca mitchell #chloe beale #pitch perfect #beca #chloe #no matter the timeline

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myvampyrez · 13 hours

Note

I’m the sephiroth hc anon, yea I was referring to the sfw and nsfw, sorry for not specifying :0

sephiroth (n)sfw hc’s 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

sephiroth (ffvii) x reader

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

guys the motivation is coming back to me TRUST ME i’m slowly but surely working on it.. 🙏🙏

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

post nibelheim sephiroth being jealous, possessive, a little toxic and manipulative, mentions of sephiroths touch repulsion and touch starvation, nsfw will have a warning before it, intended lowercase, lmk if i missed anything!! 💕

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

❥ soooo!!!1!1!1

❥ let me start off with pre-nibelheim headcanons because i miss a more domestic and ‘normal’ sephiroth rather than.. crazy seph lol

❥ so now let’s get into the actual thing!!

❥ i do not think that sephiroth is familiar with love whether it’s pre or post nibelheim, and if you read up on my angsty / comfort sephiroth fics you’ll see how i love the portrayal of where he’s so beloved by his fanclub and the public due to being a, “war hero” despite not feeling any close love like how you’d love him. the closest he’d get to developing emotional attachments would be his relationship with genesis and angeal (and maybe zack).

❥ it’ll take a while for sephiroth to fully trust and put his faith in you, but he’s actually very mature about romance. he doesn’t get very jealous and he’s very confident in your relationship and bond, if you read up on my jealousy hc’s i explain more there!!

❥ and when he really trusts you.. he’ll even let you perform his hair care routine on him when he’s too tired to do it himself. as you’ve seen, his hair is absolutely gorgeous and while he spends like an hour in the shower on just his hair— he spends more time when he’s out the shower as well with all the after product 😭.

❥ he enjoys having you brush his hair in the mornings and if you have long hair, he’ll return the favor. nothing’s better than sephiroth’s gentle hand cradling your head as he softly brushed through your strands, trying his hardest not to snag too hard on any tangles. if you’re comfortable with it, he’ll even hop in the shower with you and wash your hair for you. he’s not ashamed of nudity, he finds it a very normal and humanizing experience— knowing you can still be so vulnerable and not have it be sexual. he loves when you wash his hair for him too tho, it’s just super long so it’ll take a while lol.

❥ i cant see him as a morning person. i saw a post that he said, “sephiroths not a morning person, he’s a ‘im up because I have to be but if anyone talks to me, there will be murder’ person.” and i totally agree with that. you’ll wake him up, mentioning how he reminded you to wake up him bright and early tomorrow yet there you’d be, shaking his shoulder gently and he mutters a plea of five minutes more before pulling you closer.

❥ i definitely think that you guys would have to keep your love life private considering his job unless you’re like.. around angeal or maybe genesis. possibly zack, but you guys would have to make him promise that he wouldn’t tell anyone because he’d literally be so shocked. otherwise he’d go run to kunsel and brag about his knowledge or be so jaw dropped that he runs to angeal and is even more shocked when he already knows??? like, was he the only one who didn’t know about this whole thing??

❥ it’ll take a while for sephiroth to get comfortable with physical touch. although he secretly yearns for it, he’s also touch repulsed sometimes. it’s not that he’s appalled by you or your touch, it’s just that he’s gone so long without it that it’s foreign to him. once he gets used to it, he’ll eventually search for it and come looking for you in need of just some head massages or even just to rest his chin on your shoulder and view whatever you’re doing. he kinda does what cats do when they nuzzle the sides of their heads into your chest and like rub their noses into you.

❥ i’d like to think sephiroth’s very meticulous, so if you ever invite him in doing an activity such as baking or art or something, he WILL have to do it right or else he’ll get frustrated.

❥ as aforementioned, seph isn’t well versed in healthy love or adoration so if you even do a small task for him such as doing a chore he planned to do or cooking him pasta when he comes home— it will make him feel all gooey inside even if he won’t show it. he’s always calm and collected but, “even the coolest of people try their damndest to be alright,” as i mentioned in one of my headcanons for cloud lolol. he’s appreciative of even the small gestures, always making sure to thank you for your efforts as he knows they’re filled with love.

❥ for post nibelheim, though.. he’s lowkey manipulative. if you knew him before he found out about the jenova project, i’m assuming you’re only with him in hopes that he has some humanity within him that you can restore— well, that or you just like crazy men lol. he will definitely use that against you as a way of making you stay, always promising he’ll change after completing his plans with you by his side.

❥ if you met him post nibelheim though, he’ll be utterly fascinated with you as you’re basically his new toy. and he’ll follow you, regardless of when you met him. he’ll never let you leave his side after he’s gone crazy as he’s constantly reassuring you that his mothers legacy will be fulfilled, and that he can only do that when you’re beside him with support. it almost feels like it’s a shell of sephiroth. he never does any of the things he used to do before he was aware of who he really was, he’ll barely even let you touch him. he’s constantly on guard whenever you two are out, always keeping a hand around your waist or shoulder so that you don’t run off.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

NSFW BELOW ꨄ︎

❥ id like to think of pre-nibelheim sephiroth as a soft dom. always being gentle, even when you’re sucking him off so nicely that he can’t help but grip your hair— he always makes sure not to pull it too hard and instead bites on his hand until there’s marks. he’ll always cater to you too, treating you like a pillow prince(ss) and is literally at your beck and call. he will not tolerate brattiness though and will definitely punish you if needed!! he’s just so kind, it’s only fair that he reciprocates the same words you give him :(((

❥ i don’t think sephiroths that experienced, but i don’t think he’s a virgin either. he doesn’t have the time to pursue intimate relationships, but he’s definitely experimented with one or two of his fangirls or something. he sort of regrets it now, considering it wasn’t all that intimate.

❥ like i said, it’ll take a while for sephiroth to even get used to physical contact let alone initiate it, but once you guys do finally have sex, he is literally the sweetest. he’s probably a little rusty lol but he’s a very quick learner!! guide him and teach him how to make you feel good, it makes his chest swell with pride once he gets you making those cute little sounds :(((

❥ let me tell you this man is huge though. he’s around nine to ten inches in length and he’s a big girthier than average. he has like two prominent veins, one on the underside of his shaft and one on the left side. when he cums, it’s a pretty pearly translucent color and right before he blows it beads at the tip as he tries to hold it in.

❥ sephiroth would like to think that there’s a possibility that you two could have kids, although his duties and reputation (and future events..) kind of prevent that. so i think there’s a breeding kink in there somewhere, but if you’re not okay with it then he’s totally fine!! it might sting a little if you don’t want kids, but in the end its your body, your choice— and he will respect that!!

❥ if you’re a virgin, he’d like to make your experience worth while and makes it very clear to you that he’s beyond honored to have been your first. he’ll even place you on the softest satin pillows while he gently thrusts into you, interlacing fingers and slowly pinning them against your head while he watches for your expressions. if you get shy or look away, he’ll always let go of one of your hands to redirect your chin back to him with a soft, “look at me, darling.”

❥ he relishes in the soft sounds of your giggles, watching as you look over the display he set up for you with roses and a meticulously made bed for you, a trick he had learned from genesis once when sephiroth had been too worried of not being able to satiate your need for intimacy. seph would lift you gently, giving you a small kiss and carefully maneuvering his way to the sheets before ceremoniously laying you down beneath him. he savors these lax moments during sex, not just the serious ones.

❥ post nibelheim is a little iffy, he’s definitely more possessive and aggressive when he’s having sex. he’s also very condescending with his words, i can sense a dumbification kink somewhere..

❥ as i’ve said before, post nibelheim seph won’t let you out of his sight most of the time. so he’s so possessive that if he sees you talking to someone else in public, once you find your way back to him, you’ll have wished you never greeted them. he’ll mercilessly press your face against the mattress or table or whatever you guys are on, and talks about how silly it was for you to talk to someone so casually when you clearly knew he was watching.

❥ i don’t think he’d let you top him that much, maybe once in a blue moon would he let you act like you have control over him— but the moment you get too cocky, he’ll remind you of who really has the most control once he grips your hip dips and flips you over, catlike, vindictive mako eyes glinting in the shadows of his body.

❥ again, i’m sorry but it’s the truth, also a little manipulative. post nibelheim sephiroth would accuse you of talking to other men or wanting them to satisfy you instead. he’d grit his teeth and roll his hips even harder— claiming he’d just have to show you how much he’s ruined you for other people. they are but boys but he, he is a man. and he’ll make sure you know that by the time the day ends and the sun seeps through curtains.

❥ pre sephiroth makes love, post sephiroth fucks. there’s a huge difference.

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crow-hoards-things · 1 day

Text

The Bad Batch Series Finale

FULL DISCLOSURE: This is a vent post. I’m angry and hurt. After I get this out of my system I’ll be more open to discussing the positives of the episode.

Warnings: Ranting, Spoilers

Hooo boy. Okay. I am… less than satisfied?

Quick rundown since I haven’t posted much of anything Bad Batch related: Tech is my favorite Batch member, immediately followed by Crosshair. I’m also a HUGE Republic Commando Nerd (read all the books, played the game, despised Bad Batch as a whole initially because I felt the commandos were being unfairly ignored, can sing + translate Vode An, etc.) and Scorch was my favorite Delta. The Bad Batch grew on me shortly after Season 1 finished up, and I immediately latched onto Tech when I began watching. He’s the reason I watched the first two seasons. (Crosshair + delusions about Tech were the combined force behind watching the final season)

NOW, onto my actual thoughts on the episode, in no semblance of order because my brain is still trying to process, Ft. Cry count:

• Wish Tech was here. He would’ve loved the Zillo being freed.

• “‘Cause I’d do the same thing” no you wouldn’t. Fives would’ve. The you I fell in love with would’ve yelled at Fives about it being a terrible idea and then promptly gone along with it anyway. That said it was a really cute moment and I loved his nonchalant little “come on” afterwards.

• C: “Echo or Omega?” W&H: “Omega” THEY KNOW THEIR GIRL SO WELL

• When Hemlock went to get the operatives I got excited thinking maybe, just maybe we’d get Tech back.

• CROSSHAIR LOST HIS FREAKING HAND!?!? WHAT THE HECK!?! I will never stop being salty about this. He’s been through enough. [Near Tears]

• Rampart sucks

• Nala Se got to blow stuff up and I appreciate that even if I don’t really like her

• I’m glad Wrecker’s okay. He had me scared for a bit. Hunter, conversely, never really did? He’s Omega’s Dad, he had to survive.

• Did anybody else see that one operative whose helmet seemingly had goggles built into it? We had a lingering shot on his helmet for a few seconds and they looked like a red version of Tech’s goggles.

• SCORCH IS DEAD AND YOU’D BETTER BELIEVE I’M MAD ABOUT IT! [First shedding of tears]

• HECK YEAH, HEMLOCK IS DEAD!!! [Tears of relief combined with grief over Scorch]

• I’m so glad Omega hugged Crosshair first. I fully expected her to just run to Hunter, and Crosshair needed that hug.

• Echo’s goodbye was disrespectful. 0/10. He’s family and they don’t even care that he’s leaving???

• SOMEONE IS MISSING FROM OUR NICE LITTLE GROUP SHOT!

• I never really got super invested in the dynamic between Omega and Hunter, but the ending between them was cute I guess.

• We were robbed. We could’ve gotten Crosshair and Wrecker as old men and we were robbed.

• Tech is dead. Like, seriously, really and truly, dead. As a delusional “Tech’s alive guys, trust me” fan, it feels like he just died all over again. I’ll talk more about this later because I’m not over it. [Que sob-fest]

alright, circling back around to my main gripes, in order of appearance:

#1. Scorch.

I hate how they handled him. At first when he showed up I got super excited. That was my boy! In the Bad Batch show!! He’s making an appearance!!! Maybe they’ll do something with the Delta boys!!

Even as the episodes went on and I started to suspect where his path was leading, I consistently would go “Scorch!!! <3” every episode, because that is my boy and I love him dearly.

The levels of offended I am on Scorch’s behalf are not within my ability to express with words. The complete and utter disrespect he was shown over his time on the show is appalling. Why bring him in if you’re going to drain him of all his personality, make him have zero plot relevance, and then murder him?! They could easily have made a new clone for that, as seen by the number of operatives who exist and got 0.5 minutes of screen time.

But no. They brought in a beloved character with 10 seconds of canonical screen time prior, stripped him of everything that made him lovable, didn’t even have him DO ANYTHING, and then murdered him. It feels like a spit in the face and a kick to the gut all at once.

I will mourn. I’ve already cried and I’ll probably cry again. But right now I’m angry and I think Scorch deserves to have people be angry about how he was treated.

#2. Tech

Yes. I admit to having been a “trust me guys, Tech’s alive” person. I will also admit that at the end of episode 13 I wanted him to stay dead because I had zero faith they could satisfactorily bring him back.

My gripe is not with him staying dead. Yes, it feels like losing him all over again. Yes, I will mourn him again. Yes. That sucks. It’s not what’s making me mad.

What makes me mad is how his death was handled.

• It served ZERO purpose narratively other than to up the stakes and make us worry about whether anyone else would die (Spoiler alert: They didn’t. Tech was the only one who died) • Nobody mourned him. No one seemed affected by his death at all. No one cared. I don’t care what anyone says, that will NEVER be okay. • The first actual mention of Tech *dying* was in the finale. Sure, we’ve had name drops and goggle appearances, but actually talking about what happened? One line. One. Freaking. Line.

I feel like I’ve been slapped in the face, you know? He deserved better and so did we. He was a part of that family and they couldn’t even be bothered to address the responses to his death. He was beloved by many of us and they couldn’t even respect him or his fans enough to treat his death like something to be mourned.

That’s wrong, no matter how you look at it.

#Crow’s cawing #star wars the bad batch #the bad batch #star wars tbb #Star Wars The Bad Batch Tech #tbb tech #star wars republic commando #republic commando #tbb scorch #clone commando #clone commando scorch #tbb spoilers #Star Wars The Bad Batch spoilers #spoilers

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skzimagines · 2 days

Text

~ part 19 ~

—————————————————————————————

Genre: | Polyamory!relationship |

—————————————————————————————

It’s been three days… three days of not seeing or speaking to either of them. They’ve both called and texted, but you really don’t have the energy for any of it right now. You promised them both that you’d be in touch, but sleep hasn’t been apart of your schedule these past few nights. It’s crazy how quickly you get used to sleeping next to someone, but two people? It’s even more lonely when you’re by yourself. You had told Minho he had you all to himself before he left. But your mind still runs to hyunjin every other second of the day, even though you don’t want it to.

‘Maybe I should text Minho, tell him I’m okay.’ I think to myself. I grab my phone from the night stand and pull up Minhos name. A bunch of unread messages appear on my screen.

1:43pm

Minho🫶🏻: y/n please answer me. I’m worried about you.

3:27pm

Minho🫶🏻: you promised you’d talk to me. 😕

7:54pm

Minho🫶🏻: baby please, I’m begging you. Let me know you’re okay!

9:43pm

Y/n: hey.. I’m okay, just trying to wrap my head around things. I’m sorry I haven’t called or text.

9:43pm

Minho🫶🏻: oh baby, thank god! You can’t worry me like that. 😔

9:44pm

Y/n: I’m sorry 😔

9:45pm

Minho🫶🏻: It’s okay baby, you don’t have to be sorry. I know you’re going through a lot in that pretty head of yours. But I am always here to talk to if you need it. Don’t forget that. 😘

9:50pm

Y/n: Thank you min… it means a lot to me. I wish you could come here. 🥺

9:51pm

Minho🫶🏻: I mean… I can always come steal you for a few hours? 🫣

9:53pm

Y/n: you’d do that? 🥺

9:53pm

Minho🫶🏻: of course I would! I’d murder someone for you. 🔪

9:54pm

Y/n: okay woah sir, that’s a bit much lol

9:54pm

Minho🫶🏻: well I would. So now you know. 🤷🏻‍♂️ get ready baby, I’ll be there in an hour. I love you😘

•

Minho tells me he’ll be here in about 30 minutes or so, so I quickly get ready and sneak downstairs. I’m standing by the front door waiting for him to pull in when I hear a voice behind me. “Where are you going?” Ash asks. “Oh.. um, I-” I stutter, trying to come up with something in my head. But it was too late, Minho’s headlights flash through the windows as he pulls in. “Y/n…. It’s only been three days.” She sighs. “Ash, I know. But I need this. I need to see him.” I say. She shakes her head. “You have to quit putting yourself into these positions.” She says before heading upstairs. I let out a breath before making my way to Minhos car. He gets out of the car as I make my way towards him, he quickly engulfs me into a massive hug. “I miss you so much.” He whispers. I hum in agreement. “Let’s get out of here.” He says, pulling away and opening the car door for me.

•

“Have you talked to hyunjin?” It’s been a few hours since Minho’s picked me up. We’ve been at this park talking and holding one another, trying to make sense of everything, trying to make things okay again. “No, I haven’t,” I state. “You probably should” he says. I look at him confused. “What do you mean?” I ask. “Well, at the end of the day. He’s still one of my best friends. And I know he needs you just as much as I do.” He explains. “You said you wanted it to be just us…” I question. “I know. But him and I have talked and we-” he begins before i cut him off. “You’ve… talked?” I ask. Minho stays silent. “When did this happen?” I ask. “Yesterday…” he says. “I know what I said about him being an insatiable asshole, and all he ever does is bring you down. But, I think he’s actually trying to change this time. He told me he had counseling set up, he’s going to quit drinking. He said he loves you and misses you. He said he’d try to get ahold of you, but he doesn’t want to force anything.” He says.

And like the universe was sending messages through the three of us… my phone starts to ring. I tell Minho to hold on a second, searching through my bag for my phone. “It’s him.” I whisper, showing Minho my phone screen. He gives me a soft smile and nods, telling me to answer. “I’m gonna go to the car, give you some privacy.” He whispers, walking away.

I hit the green button on my phone and bring it to my ear.

“Hello.” I say softly.

“Y/n….” I hear him sniffle over the phone.

“Hey… are you okay?” I ask softly.

“Please…” he begs quietly.

“Jinnie… what’s wrong?” I say, beginning to panic.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.” He sobs.

“Hyunjin! What is wrong!” I yell into the phone.

“I can’t do this without you…” he whispers.

“What did you do hyunjin?” I ask in a panic.

“Don’t be mad at me… please.” He begs.

“Where are you?” I ask. There’s silence. “Jinnie… please, tell me where you are.” I say.

“Home.” He whispers.

“I’ll be there soon, okay?” I say, but get nothing in response.

I quickly shove my phone in my bag and run to the car.

“Minho we need to go!” I yell.

“Wh-what’s going on?” He asks, shutting his door and starting the car.

“Hyunjin’s… now! Please hurry!” I yell.

Minho throws the car in reverse, squealing the tires as he pulls away. Thankfully Hyunjin’s house is only ten minutes from the park we were at. We arrive in 5. I quickly unbuckle and slam the door open, running up to his front door not caring to shut the car door. Not bothering knocking, I quickly open his door and run in. “Hyunjin!” I yell, but there’s nothing. “Jinnie.. where are you?” I yell. I run through his house searching through every room. Minho runs in behind me. “Upstairs bathroom.” He whispers, once he realizes I’ve looked everywhere downstairs. My heart sinks at his words. I quickly run upstairs, swinging the bathroom door open. Hyunjin’s laying on the floor, his eyes are closed. I look to the side of him and see a pill bottle laying next to him. “MINHO CALL 911!” I scream. I quickly drop down next to Hyunjin and pull him into my lap as best as I can. I shake him violently. “Hyunjin please!” I yell. “Come on please!” I say lightly slapping his cheek. I let out a sob. “You can’t leave me!” I shake him again. It seems like eternity before I hear sirens making their way down the road. “They’re upstairs!” I hear Minho yell.

—————————————————————————————

Tag list: @greysweaters-blog @mimihwang248 @armystay89 @berryberrytan @multeciahucho @poetrycassie @nobody3210 @straykids5star @mabysblog @yaorzu-blog @elizalabs3 @abby-wanna-bangchan @lyracarvahall @silencionyx

To be continued…

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tonyboneysblog · 2 days

Text

ACCIDENTAL NAB P4

parings: thief!hawks x princess!reader

word count: 2k

warnings: kidnapping, fighting.

notes:HAWKS GOES CRAZY.

summary: thief!hawks steals you away and takes you far away from you home!…on accident.

part 3: ACCIDENTAL NAB P3

The more the carriage jiggled and shook, the more adrenaline shoot through your veins.

Skinningrove was terrifying, according to Dabi.

You wish your sisters were here because then you’d have to put on a more confident front to show them you weren’t scared at all.

but they aren’t here, you can’t hide.

Hawks steals glances towards you, you never makes eye contact. You hope he doesn’t see how scared you truly are.

You surround yourself with fun memory’s of your sisters, ones that make you feel warm, it hardens you.

“we’re here.” Dabi calls from the front.

never mind, your losing your shit.

You can hear hawks speaking to Tokoyami, “stay here, don’t want the cargo getting stolen- use dark shadow if you have to.”

Hawks then jumps out of the carriage joining you and Dabi.

“Stay close to me, okay?” Hawks whispers in your ear.

You nod as a protective wing covers you slightly.

The three of you walk through the crowd, it smells a lot worse than SableStone did, Dabi says it’s because a lot of “human waste” gets dropped here.

so you watch your step a little more than usual…

Through the hood you can see children on the streets, a lot of them looked malnourished but that’s average for a town like this- it smells like iron around the butcher shops, it makes you sick.

Your father would’ve never even let you set a single step here, let alone frolic in the crowds.

Dabi seems more on guard than he did in SableStone, so does Hawks. Both of their stances are more stiff- hawks has less of a cheerful “I love life!” face and more of a “come near me and I’ll slaughter you” face.

It gives you some comfort.

The three of you make your way to a darker shop tucked in a corner, it’s old and made out of gray stones stacked atop each-other with a little window.

“Excuse me?” Hawks taps the entrance of the window, “got an offer for ya.”

A man comes out from the darkness, he has pale skin and hair, his skin dry and cracking. He has at least two scars on his face as well with red eyes.

a little scary, so you shuffle a closer to hawks.

A scratchy voice replies from the window, “and that would be?”

“Just a few things from the palace?”

The man scoffs, “I got too many of your type coming in a day, don’t waste my time aga-“

Dabi smacks his hand on the counter, “Shigaraki, we’re not in the mood for games at the moment.”

“Dabi? hm, you should’ve done the talking first y’know- I’d believe you quicker.”

“The bird ain’t that smart, sorry.”

“How much of it you Va got?”

“A few chairs, chests, dresses, shoes, y’know the basics.”

You stay quiet and try not to make eye contact with the red eyed one.

for once, you hope someone doesn’t recognize you.

You can he shigaraki say, “You selling her too?”

Dabi chuckles, “Depends”

please say this is a joke, you’d rather sleep next to hawks for a 100 more nights than even be near that man for one.

Hawks said he wouldn’t sell you- he won’t, right?

You feel his wing shift around you tighter.

“She’s not for sell.” Hawks says hoarsely.

Shigaraki laughs, “what, you take the princess too?”

he stopped when they didn’t laugh with him.

“are you fucking serious.”

Dabi looks around, “a little bit.”

“You can’t be a little bit serious, why the hell did you kidnap her?!” Shigaraki whisper yells.

Hawks sighs, “it was an accident.”

“you don’t just accidentally kidnap someone, dipshit.”

During all of this chaos, you look around- it feels more crowded than before, you never liked crowds anyway.

But a man catches your eye, a very beautiful man at that.

Blond hair, blue eyes, dimples, a lazy smile with a relaxed pose- lord have mercy.

and he’s looking at you too!

All conversation behind you has been absolutely lost, this man is the only thing you’re thinking about right now.

Hawks wing isn’t entirely around you- you could just sneak away for a moment couldn’t you? I doubt Mr. bird man would care.

so you step out slightly- no reaction from hawks yet. then more, no reaction.

“Damit shigaraki, it was on accident okay?!” You can hear less and less of hawks the more you scoot away.

Then the gorgeous man is right next to you!

“Hello, pretty” he says with a smooth voice.

“I-I uhm- hi!”

“What’re you doing all the way in Skinningrove? Your skin looks it comes from the capitol.”

Slightly weird but that’s alright!

“I-I’m traveling, for work!” you reply almost too quick.

He touches your wrist, his hands are soft.

“You’d go for a pretty penny.”

“what was that?”

All he does is stare at you, with that lazy smile…okay you’d like to go back to Hawks now.

you take a step back but the man grips your hand tighter, “h-hey, let go.”

“God, you’d go for a fortune.” You can feel hawks feather fall out of your cloak.

He grabs you, covering your mouth and dragging you towards the iron scented shops.

Meanwhile, hawks is still arguing quietly with shigaraki.

“I’m surprised she hasn’t killed you in your sleep!” Shigaraki roughly says.

Hawks groans, “she likes me just fine, we’re civil.”

He looks towards where your supposed to be, “isn’t that right prin-…”

where are you?

“princess?” He says a little more worried.

Dabi looks at hawks, “what?”

“Where is she?”

“Who, y/n?”

“yes- where is she?” He says more quickly, looking frantically around.

Shigaraki starts, “Well good job, you lost someone you kidnap-“

“Shut up! Where did she go?” Hawks cuts him off.

Dabi looks around, “calm down, she couldn’t have gone far.”

Hawks wings puff slightly, “I’m going above ground, easier to spot her.”

He immediately shoots up ti the air, searching for even a glimpse of you.

The beautiful man is still dragging you through the streets, you whip around wildly trying to get him off of you.

“Stop struggling, no one will help you.”

The smell of iron gets stronger, was Dabi actually serious when he said they’d skin you?

You struggle more, you don’t want to be someone lamp shade o-or carpet!

You get closer and closer to the butchers door, you close your eyes, you don’t want to see.

“AGH-“ *smack!*

you fall to the ground immediately, you can hear people gasping and stepping away.

You can see Dabi come into your line of vision, “there you are!”

you wish it were hawks but- your just glad your safe.

Where is hawks? You turn your head to look for him but Dabi ends up stopping you, “don’t look.”

you don’t. You can hear it, grunting, the sound of flesh being hit, the running and cheering.

So all you do is stare at Dabi, “You scared the hell out of him yknow? better say thank you when he’s done.”

done beating a man to death. It makes your skin rise, makes you feel cold.

The noises stop. You can hear people usher to the man, then you can see hawks start to walk over to the carriage like he didn’t just pummel a man.

then, he starts giving your belongings to shigarakis hole-a-wall shop.

Dabi speaks up, “doubt we can sell it all here, need to go somewhere else after.”

your speechless, your father never let you even see blood.

you feel dirty even though you didn’t see anything really.

Dabi stands up, “cmon, let’s go meet up with them.”

you just follow, and sit at the front of the carriage with Tokoyami.

He looks at you, “told you Skinningrove was terrible.”

you exhale a small laugh, at least he tried to keep you happy.

you look towards the crowd, you don’t see the man but- you see specks of red.

“Thanks a bunch, shigaraki” you can hear Dabi say.

“Yea just make sure princess doesn’t run off again eh?”

You feel the carriage shift with Hawks and Dabis weight.

Tokoyami starts, “where to next?”

Dabi pauses, “Sunstone.”

Tokoyami stumbles, “In the dessert?”

“Yea, shigaraki says we’ll find some good prices there.” Dabi replies.

Tokoyami looks back into the carriage, “yikes, you need something to dress those knuckles Hawks.”

Dabi chuckles, “he don’t know how to tie a bandage barely.”

“I bet y/n does” Tokoyami says.

You say, “What?”

Tokoyami fixes himself, “I bet you know how to dress a wound, being the eldest daughter and all.”

It’s true, you do. You always dressed your sisters wounds when they tripped outside near the garden. Your father never liked you near blood but you still someone always came near it anyways.

“I uh…I do.”

Tokoyami smiles slightly, “will you do the honors then?”

you sigh and step into the covered part of the carriage.

Hawks is shaking slightly, maybe he’s not used to beating people…who are you kidding he’s a thief.

you sit directly in front of him, grabbing some cloth and trying to rip it. It doesn’t work.

He takes it from your hands, tearing it for you, you’re able to get a better look at his hands. They’re covered in blood, it’s your fault.

you grab the container of water and dab it onto the rag, cleaning his wounds softly as he winces quietly, griping your hands a little tighter.

“Mrgh…”

“Sorry..”

Hawks doesn’t reply.

You wrap the cloth around his knuckles, are you okay…?”

“m’fine.”

something’s off, he seems angry? upset? maybe even a little sad too.

“are you sure, Mr. Hawks?”

He says quiet, looking down at his shoes.

“Hawks?”

“Why would you run off?”

“I-i was distracted.”

He huffs, “I know you’re not completely stupid y/n, why did you run off.”

He seems a whole lot more upset than you thought he’d be before you snuck off.

“I saw something that caught my eye..” you dab more water on the the rag.

“or someone.” he says with distain.

“Hawk-“

“y’know. I knew your were probably some princess who was aching for a bit of loving but I didn’t know you’d start whoring yourself out.”

You mouth drops, “h-hawks?!” Why would he say something like that to you, weren’t you two making good progress?

You can see Dabi look over in surprise but he decided not to intervene.

Hawks looks up from his shoes, “What, It’s the truth ain’t it?”

It’s true that you are a little bit touch starved and that you enjoy attention but you’ve also been inside a palace for most of your life.

“Y-you don’t even know me.”

“I know enough, I can tell through your damn actions y/n.” He voice raises, “You think some locked up princess will ever be as good of a ruler than your mother?”

“Don’t bring her into this-“

“Why? Cause your daddy said “off with her head” and you weren’t allowed to talk about her no more?” He yells at you.

Then carriage goes quiet. Mother made your father soft, he didn’t need that.

you can feel the tears burning the edging of your eyes, you can feel the pain resurface.

Dabi speaks up finally with just a simple, “oh wow.”

You don’t say anything, what would you say to something like that? No one ever talked about your mother like that.

So your tears fall instead of words.

“Y/n..” hawks says softly.

He continues, “I-I was just angry- I’m so sorry.”

You just cover your face a curl into your own lap, hiding, hawks placed his hands onto your back and continues talking.

“I swear I didn’t mean any of that princess, didn’t mean a single thing ‘swear it.”

You don’t respond.

“Fuck, m’sorry, m’so sorry princess- I just was angry because I couldn’t protect you okay?”

You sniffle, “I-it’s fine.”

“It’s not. M’sorry, princess.”

He holds you, you feel warm- mostly because his wings are trying to wrap around you.

You never knew hawks could get so….emotional?

The words he spewed out from his mouth did hurt but he seems like he’s actually sorry at least.

He just holds you, you wished he were one of your sisters- you missed them oh so much.

They would never say something like that to you, they were too scared to.

At least Hawks was honest. That’s probably what you liked so much about him.

you hug back.

He tightens his grip.

And his embrace is warm.

#anime #fanfics #hawks x reader #takami keigo #bnha hawks #keigo x you #mha takami keigo #spotify #hawks x y/n #mha #takami keigo x reader #keigo takami #keigo takami x reader

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foldingfittedsheets · 4 months

Text

Buckle up for another unhinged story time. Now, as I’ve said before, I used to work at a sex shop. At one point I had three roommates and we all worked the same dildo slinging retail job and lived together. It was extremely sitcom.

Now, as you’d imagine, living with three other people who also talked about sex toys all day created a microcosm of people who were all extremely comfortable around sex toys and related topics. No one left dirty toys laying around but seeing things left in showers or showing off a new purchase was just a Tuesday.

After some life upheavals I ended up living with one of those roommates again, just me and her. For the sake of this story let’s call her Betty. Betty and I shared a two bedroom, and the layout was all the common spaces were an open floor plan and then one hallway formed a T, with my room and bathroom to the left and Betty’s to the right.

Well, one day my cousin calls me up. He’s coming to town for a visit and I offer to put up him, his wife, and their more… sheltered friend. (Unbeknownst to me there was a full Briefing for this girl before she met me so that I didn’t overwhelm her with my blasé attitudes towards- well, most things).

They drove in from two states over and it was a long drive. I had to work and couldn’t greet them or spend the first day together. So I told them to come grab my key so they could all shower off and settle in before me.

I arrived home later that night and found the atmosphere a little awkward at first. Things quickly warmed up and I charmed their friend, impressing my cousin with my immaculate respect for personal comfort levels. We had a lovely evening. By the time we all said goodnight I’d dismissed the initial tension as being tired after a long drive.

The next day we all decided to go to the zoo. I’m a morning shower person, but I let them go first while I made breakfast. After breakfast it was my turn and I hopped in the shower.

Midway through my eyes fixed on it. A little pink sex toy, sitting brazenly on the rim of the tub. Oh no, I thought. This was why things had been awkward yesterday! I left out a personal object because I’d literally forgotten to ever put them away by that point.

What I felt wasn’t embarrassment per se, because that emotion had been utterly eradicated by that point. Rather it was a deep shame that I’d leave out something that might make a guest feel uncomfortable. They told me their friend was sheltered and I had left out a sex toy, it was the epitome of rudeness!

I rejoined everyone and said, “I am so sorry! I didn’t realize I’d left that in the shower, that was so rude of me!”

My guests all exchanged a Look. I looked from my cousin to his wife, she glanced toward their friend, and their friend looked at my cousin. No one would look at me.

“Well…” my cousin finally said, “you didn’t tell us which room was yours yesterday.”

I blinked in confusion, Betty’s room and bathroom were basically just like mine.

“When we got here,” his wife continued, “we went to the other side first. In Betty’s bathroom.”

Reader, Betty’s bathroom.

Had been absolutely covered in dildos. Sex toys of all shapes and sizes covered every flat surface, the tub rim, the sink, the shelves. Wall to wall sex toys. Apparently Betty was doing a spring cleaning and had left her entire extensive collection out to air dry.

These three weary travelers had opened a door to the dildo dimension and had no idea how to react. To this day I have no idea what context clues they used to figure out Betty’s room from mine.

But when I’d come home they were lost in the sex toy shell shock, presumably wondering how they could ever talk about it with someone who felt it was okay to leave out every sex toy they own when expecting company in some kind of bizarre power play.

By the time they finished telling me about this we were all laughing so hard we were in tears.

“When we saw your bathroom with one little pink toy it was so discreet we didn’t even care!” They told me.

After my cousin and his crew had gone on their way I finally told Betty the whole story. She listened with eyes growing wider and wider and finally burst out, “That’s why they were so weird when I got home!!”

#ramblies #funny #story #writing #nsft #ffs foibles

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arachine · 7 months

Text

yes, i'm ready (to fall in love)

── ˚₊✩‧₊ genre: smut, fluff, mild angst

── ˚₊✩‧₊ synopsis: after reader is persuaded into putting herself back out there by long time friend, shoko, she successfully ends up scoring a date. unbeknownst to her, though, the gods have different plans—and one of them seems especially interested in her relationship with ex-husband, gojo satoru.

or in other words: a failed date results in a night of passion amongst former lovers.

── ˚₊✩‧₊ contents: 13.5k words, ex-husband!gojo + co-parent!gojo, slight dub-con (alcohol use), dumbification, overstimulation, vaginal penetration, unconventional form of contraception (pull-out method - don’t do this), pussy eating + one oc for the sake of plot

── ˚₊✩‧₊ note: i know this is really long and most people don’t have the attention span for it but PLEASE give it a chance! this is literally the longest piece of fiction i’ve ever written and i’m really proud of it :(

songs to listen to for best reading experience: donny hathaway - i love you more than you’ll ever know barbara mason - i’m ready partynextdoor - showing you bryson tiller - been that way

After you divorced your ex-husband, and decided to devote all of your time to being a mother, you never really considered getting back into the dating world. Not that you didn’t eventually want to settle down with someone new, but the dating world now was just so–different.

Different in the sense that meeting people organically was becoming increasingly difficult. It wasn’t like how it used to be in high school or college, and it really didn’t take that much effort then to get a man’s number by the end of your outing.

When you were in your early twenties, a brush of your hand on a man’s arm would’ve worked. An ‘accidental’ bump into someone at a grocery store or cafe might’ve ended in a quick lay. Using these tactics today, though, might earn you some weird looks–have–earned you some weird looks.

You’re on call with a friend from college when you begin recounting something embarrassing that happened to you recently. At first, the conversation started out about all of the professors you would’ve slept with (if given the chance), but then, one thing led to another, and she asked you something that made you wince:

“‘How’s your dating life been since, you know, Satoru?’”

There’s a heavy silence from your end, and she almost thinks you hung up.

“I mean, if you want to share,” she splurts, attempting to approach this gently, “I know that after the divorce, I wasn’t there for you like you needed, but I’d like to make up for that–if you’d let me.”

Shoko’s always been like that. Blunt and charismatic, but gentle and zephyr-light in the way she cares for those closest to her. It’s a trait of hers that you admire, because not so many people would care to treat your heart with such fragility.

“No, it’s okay. You can ask, you know, it’s not this secret thing,” you start, sighing before continuing, “it happened, and it was a mutual decision.”

Shoko hums on the other side, “Well, I’m still sorry. I let us go without talking for far too long…”

“Well, I accept your apology, even if it’s unwarranted. Like I said, it was mutual and…there wasn’t really an intense grieving period for me? The only thing that hurt me is that you distanced yourself. I mean, the girls did miss their aunt Shoko…” you say, trying to make her feel bad but not too bad.

“I know, I know, I’m a bad aunt,” she jests, then the tone shifts to something serious. “I think I was just scared because both of you were my best-friends. I didn’t want to ‘pick sides’, but I see now that it was a mutual decision, so I’m assuming you two are on good-terms?”

Again, you pause, “I mean, yeah. Satoru will always be my best friend. We may not be together romantically but he’s such an integral part of my life, I couldn’t do this–all of this–alone.” After you say it, you feel a weight being lifted off of your chest that you didn’t know was even there.

You think nobody would understand if you told them this. You think they’d question how a person could divorce someone who’s supposed to be their best-friend. And with the way you describe it, they’d probably think you were still in love with him. But Shoko’s different, she gets it. Which is why saying it to her came so easily.

“He is a great father,” she chimes in, “but you two rushed into it so quickly, I don’t think either of you had time to discover yourselves after college.”

Although she can’t see it, you smile. Because she gets it. Even if time did place itself in between the two of you, she was there for most of it, when things were still touch-and-go. When things were fresh, and clumsy.

“Exactly, that was our biggest gripe,” you admit, “We didn’t afford ourselves that time to grow, and I think that hindered our relationship. We weren’t husband and wife first, we were parents–and we were young, way too young.”

“You made it, though,” Shoko tries to brighten the mood, “you’re both amazing parents, and I know those beautiful girls that you created are lucky to have you.”

The intimacy of the conversation sends your emotions into overdrive. You quickly realize how much you missed her, how much you yearned to talk to her. To reconnect on this level.

A single tear cascades down your cheek, and you try not to sound like you’re crying when you say, “Ok, enough about that. You wanted to know about my shitty dating life, right?”

It happened last week, the grocery store incident. You were out picking up a few things for dinner when you spotted a cute guy standing outside of the aisle a few rows from you. He was fit beyond measure, in looks and strength, and was wandering around aimlessly in pursuit of red pepper flakes.

Coincidentally, you just happened to be in the seasoning aisle, and like the good samaritan you were, decided to personally hand-deliver it to him.

You wince as you vividly recall the embarrassing ordeal that ensued immediately after.

“Hey,” you peer from behind the aisle, with a bottle of red pepper flakes in tow. “I heard you mumbling about finding this, and you looked pretty lost, so I thought I’d pick ‘em out for you.”

The man’s brows furrow briefly before his lips up-turn into a grateful smile, “Oh, cool, thank you so much!” As quickly as the conversation started, it ends even quicker. He gives you a final nod of endearment before he’s turning around on his heels to resume his shopping.

“God, could he be any more dense? The men today really make you work for it, huh?” you mumble to yourself, pulling the bosom of your blouse down until a good amount of cleavage is on display. “Okay, alright. You got this, you got this. This always used to work, right? Yeah, men love boobs.”

Walking up to the man again, you try a different approach–a bolder approach. “Not to be a bother but I was wondering if I could-”

“Babe? Oh, there you are,” a new voice interjects. The owner of the voice emerges from around the corner and walks up to the man with a cart and a baby in tow. You’re stunned, to say the least. All you can do is stand there and blink in complete and utter dumbfoundment. As you remain in their presence, you take a moment to analyze the woman. She’s gorgeous, and toned. A real model-type broad, with feline-ish features that make so much sense paired with the man who appears to be her partner.

Oh, you think, and apparently say aloud, too. That’s when the woman turns to you, finally acknowledging your much smaller, and much quieter presence.

“Hi, can we help you?” she smiles, and it’s actually genuine. Toothy and perfect, and totally not jealous. You blink once, twice, before gathering your wits to answer her question.

“Yeah, uh, no. I actually, uhm, was helping your h-husband. He was looking for red pepper flakes,” you mutter embarrassedly, and point to the bottle in his hand. Upon further observation, you notice that she isn’t exactly wearing a ring. You find this odd, especially because his not wearing a ring is what encouraged you to pursue him. Carefully, you prod.

“If I may ask, how come neither of you are wearing rings?” The couple gives each other a look, one that makes you feel like the odd man out. A look that is universally known, and without a doubt, could easily be translated to: ‘did this chick really just ask that?’

Still, you smile as you wait for an answer. The woman takes the initiative. “Yeah, we don’t really believe in rings, isn’t that right, babe?” she says so matter-of-factly. You blink again for what seems like the thousandth time, because of all things, you did not expect that to come out of her mouth. Her husband is quick to validate her statement.

“Yeah, we think rings are unnecessary, you know? You don’t need a piece of metal to confirm your feelings,” he says walking to his partner’s side and wrapping an arm around her.

Disgustingly, the two give each other googly eyes before locking lips briefly. You can tell they’re the type to probably share this information with just about any soul who asks. Today, you just happened to be that unfortunate soul.

“Are you married?” she queries, tilting her head against her husband’s chest.

“I was, now we just…co-parent,” you purse your lips, ready for this entire interaction to be over. The woman frowns at your answer, and this time it’s not as genuine.

“Awe, well, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It was actually a mutual decision,” you quip.

“Okay,” she smiles, widening her eyes at her husband to signal a departure, “well, it was nice meeting you, and thank you for the red pepper flakes.”

The family turns away and heads to the front where check-out is. You don’t even buy the items you intended to purchase, just leave your cart in the middle of whatever aisle you abandoned it and leave the store.

“Oh, baby, you didn’t?” Shoko asks in horror. You nod your head, still forgetting she can’t see you and the way you’re sliding down against the wall.

“I did, and I shan't ever again,” a laugh erupts from your throat.

“I mean, fuck, are we getting old? ‘Don’t believe in rings,’” she mumbles, “Don’t believe in rings, my ass! Is this what the youth are doing these days? Not proposing with rings?”

Now that you think about it, you wonder how that would even work. “Yeah, right? I mean, how does that even work? ‘Will you marry me? But, actually, you should know I don’t have a ring for you, so people will have to guess that we’re together purely based on vibes and energy,’” you mock, in a not-so-great man voice.

Shoko’s laughing so hard by the end of your bit that she breaks the sound barrier, and the sound that makes on the phone sends you into your own fit of laughter. You laugh so hard it seems like a stream of pee comes out. Curse your developed incontinence after motherhood.

“God, you’re so stupid, I can’t breathe,” she says exasperatedly, and you know that on the other side she’s probably keeling over in her bed.

“Oh, please. I bet you haven’t laughed this hard in a long time, bitch.”

“I haven’t,” she cackles. This back-and-forth continues until the two of you settle down enough to continue discussing your (pee-inducing) love life.

“You tried any dating apps?”

It’s a simple and valid question, but it only makes you laugh even harder. You only stop when the other side of the line goes quiet. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously. It’s what everyone’s doing these days! You’re not that old, you know.”

“Shut up,” you kid, “ it’s just that I never considered it. I mean, dating apps feel so impersonal. How serious do people even take it?”

“Sure, there’s people who use it for casual hook-ups and stuff, but a lot of people do come out of it with a relationship. Just don’t knock it ‘till you try it.”

“Oh?” you muse, curious. You wish Shoko could see your face, and the weird little dance your brows were doing. “Shoko, have you used a dating app before?”

The brunette kisses her teeth. “Can’t get anything past you.”

“Never.”

There’s a sense of hesitance but you encourage her to elaborate because ‘she became estranged from you for almost a decade and needed to pay her dues’. Sighing defeatedly, she eventually acquiesces.

“Fine, fine, maybe I’ve…been on a few dates,” she starts, “–and had a few one night stands, maybe more than a few, and maybe even dated a guy that turned into my stalker–”

“Ieiri Shoko! You naughty, naughty girl! Wait, stalker?”

“To make a long story short, I got a restraining order on that creep. Anyway,” she segues, attempting to change the subject, “We should make you a profile!”

For the rest of your phone call, Shoko guides you through all of the dating app basics. She offers her expert advice as you scroll through your camera roll for potential photos to use. You go through about a hundred before you finally settle on five that she really likes.

The one that she tells you to put first is a photo of you in a bikini. It’s a few years old but she says you look ‘radiant’ and that your ‘tits were practically spilling out of the cups’. Plus, for further consolation, she says most people on dating apps are liars.

“Everyone’s got at least one old photo on their profile, doesn’t make you a catfish,” she quips, “just means you’re a nostalgic person!”

“Right…”

The next one is a selfie. You’re smiling big in it, showing your gums, and it’s genuine. Shoko says guys like those types of photos because it shows them that you’re approachable. It also won her over because it’s fairly recent, too.

Out of all your photos, there’s only a select few that were taken within the year. You had to admit to her that you never really took photos of yourself anymore. Satoru took most of your candids. Still, she had a mission. And she wasn’t going to be satisfied until she stuck around to see your first match.

“After the selfie you should put the one of you with the girls.”

The picture she’s referring to is one Satoru also took. You remember that day fondly, and even now, the memories feel like a warm embrace.

about 8 years ago . . .

“Dad, mom, look! Hurry!” Hana, your oldest, shouts. Satoru and you are sitting on a blanket up on the sand dunes with Haruki, who’s trying her best to make a sand castle–to no avail.

“What is it, hon?” Satoru and you rush over to her, snatching toddler Haruki in the same breath. When you get to the scene, a flood of warmth washes over you upon discovering the ‘threat’.

“See, it’s baby turtles!” Hana’s squatting in the sand, watching with pure and unfettered fascination as the hatchlings crawl north to the ocean. When she looks up at you, with eyes so bright, and a smile so big that’s missing two of her front teeth, you want to cry.

“Oh, hon, that’s beautiful,” you gasp, lowering to your haunches so that you can join her. Satoru is about to follow suit before deciding at the last minute to go back to the blanket. When he returns, he snaps a picture unbeknownst to you. Eventually, though, you turn your gaze to him and he captures–what he used to think then–the ‘prettiest’ photo of you.

“You sneaking photos of me?” you squint, pointing at him. He trods closer until he’s standing above you. Then he snaps another. Your head’s tilted up, and you’ve got one eye open, and the other closed because of the sun. He always liked when you squinted like that because it made your nose do this cute little scrunch.

“Yup, ‘cause you’re my muse.”

You’re pulled out of your daydream when Shoko says your name on the other line.

“You still there?”

“Yeah, it’s just…”

“Just what?” she queries, waiting for a response.

“I wanna use it, but my ex-husband took it. It feels weird, you know? And do I want to use a photo of me with the girls?”

“Hon, who cares if Satoru took the photo? It’s still a good photo, and to answer your second question, why wouldn’t you include a picture with your girls?”

“I don’t know, I guess I’m just afraid no one will be interested. Nothing about a picture of a mom with her two daughters exactly screams ‘fuck me’.”

Shoko lets out a small chuckle but you’re being serious. “Oh, sweetie. You’re so cute. Milfs are in these days, I don’t think I’m the one getting old, I think it’s just you!”

“Ha-ha, laugh at the mom,” you feign annoyance, but give her a laugh in return.

“But seriously, please use that photo. Nobody’s going to skip you just because you’re a mom. A lot of men on there have kids of their own, just gotta tweak your settings,” Shoko reassures you.

By the end of your call, the profile is set. You thank your old friend for the previous heart-to-heart conversation, and the time she spent helping you set up your profile.

“Keep me updated, and don’t talk about mom stuff, okay? Now, I’m not saying you can’t talk about them,” she begins, “but show these guys your personality! I know she’s in the closet somewhere hiding next to our old slutty clubbing clothes.”

Then, the both of you say your goodbyes and she wishes you a good-luck on your newly established dating journey. As you lay in your bed, you give your profile a final onceover. Not too bad, you think to yourself.

You ended up using all of the photos she had originally picked out for you. Even the beach photo. To compensate for your old photos, though, Shoko made sure that your prompts were witty and full of personality.

“I’d match me, I think. No, yeah, these are funny. She did a good job.”

The following day, you open your phone to fifty notifications from the dating app. A tingle of excitement shoots through your body from the tip of your toes, to the top of your head. It takes all of your might not to squeal in the office.

“Holy fuck,” you whisper at your desk. The amount of notifications that you initially saw on your homescreen read ‘50’ but when you opened the app, it showed you an overwhelming ‘100’ with a fat plus sign next to it. “Wait, are these all the people who liked me? Shoko’s gonna flip.”

Getting up from your chair, you make a beeline to the nearest bathroom. Not that you have to use it, but so you can scroll through all the potential prospects without your boss seeing you on your phone.

Pulling open the door to the bathroom, you close it shut behind you and lock it. A few minutes pass in the time you’re able to get through about half of the people who liked you. You end up skipping a lot of them. They’re either too young, too self-absorbed, creepy, or just downright not your type.

Some stick out, though. Even trick you into thinking they’re potential matches, but then the other shoe drops–because there’s always another shoe. You’ll scroll through their profiles, and they’ll seemingly have all the perfect traits: intelligent, witty, handsome, tall–and then, boom. You see their ‘don’t want kids’ preference. Every failed match only discourages you more and more.

It’s weird, because your profile preferences are set to ‘have kids’ and you even have a photo pictured with your girls. So why are men liking your profile despite that? After a few more scrolls, you’re just about ready to head back to your desk but then–you have a hit.

Your finger hovers over the ‘x’ at the bottom of the screen, then retracts. The guy’s profile at first impression is miles better than the rest, it’s almost too good to be true. His first photo is what piqued your interest. It’s of him posing for a silly photo with his sons, and he’s got his arms draped around their shoulders.

As you scroll down his profile, you see that there’s even more of him with his children. You take this as a green flag. He wants people to know he has kids, and that he isn’t embarrassed to show them off. You admire him for it.

The last few remaining photos are an amalgamation of selfies and full-body photos. To the average, well-adjusted adult, looks wouldn’t be a deal breaker. But he definitely wasn’t too bad on the eyes, and you were not complaining about that–especially, after the odd men you had to scroll through to get here. In other words, he was gorgeous and still fit despite being older than you (him, respectively being in his early forties).

Checking the time on your phone, you realize that you’re pushing your little ‘bathroom break’. Before heading back to your desk, you decide to respond to his first photo.

You: Cute! Could never get my girls to stand so still for a photo like this now haha :)

Work goes by slower than you’d like, but finishes up just in time when you get a notification from the dating app. You’re a little more excited than you’d care to admit. Tidying up your workspace, you say your goodbyes to your colleagues and head to the elevator. Absent-mindedly, you rush to answer his message but realize it won’t go through because of the elevator’s poor service.

Kazuki: Oh, they’re moody and grown now, don’t be fooled. I can't remember the last time I saw my youngest smile.

You don’t answer his reply until you get home. Actually, you do just about everything but answer his reply: check on the girls, shower, prepare dinner, pour a glass of wine–you’re nervous, and you don’t know why. But you know you should probably answer soon before he becomes disinterested. So you get comfortable in bed with your glass of wine and pull open his chat.

You: Lol, know that all too well. Kids are little assholes, aren’t they?

The speed in which he reads your text is startling, you don’t even have enough time to close out of the chat. Then, he responds.

Kazuki: Hell yeah they are!

Kazuki: Sometimes I want to strangle my youngest. He’s at that age where he’s starting to rebel and question everything. I told him he was supposed to be the ‘easy’ one, but his knucklehead brothers are bad influences on him…Tell me, does it ever get easier?

You: Sounds a lot like my oldest. She used to cling to me like a koala but now she’s the ring leader, and I’m the enemy. My youngest still loves her mama, though (for now lol).

You: And to answer your question, I’d like to think so?

You take a second before continuing your response. Shoko told you to keep the mom talk limited, but this seems to be working for you so far, and he’s genuinely interested in what you have to say. So for once, you’re going to ignore her advice.

You: Kids go through phases. It's our job to reassure them that we’re not going anywhere. No matter how much they push us away or try to, that is :)

Kazuki’s chat bubbles pop up, then disappear. You think he’s deciding on what to say.

Kazuki: I can tell we’re gonna get along great. It’s nice opening up like this, you know? Talking to another parent. If I'm being honest, dating apps have always intimidated me…

Kazuki: People see kids as ‘baggage’, and it really bothers me. My kids aren’t baggage. They’re the best parts of me. And if someone doesn’t see that, then we have no business getting to know each other.

Kazuki: Sorry for getting all sappy. Just felt like I needed to say it.

His apology makes you frown. It feels like a breath of fresh air to hear someone talk about their kids so lovingly, because you feel the exact same way. You’re glad you downloaded the app, and you make a mental note to thank Shoko again later (after you debrief her about this).

You: Never apologize for speaking about your kids! And if we’re being absolutely transparent, that was my biggest gripe with downloading this app, too.

You: I’m so glad we matched each other. I’d like to get to know you more. And I’m hoping the feeling’s mutual?

Kazuki: It’s more than mutual.

Kazuki: Don’t want to get ahead of myself but how do you feel about dinner? There’s a cool high-scale restaurant in the city that I haven’t been to yet. Heard it’s got two Michelin stars despite opening up not too long ago.

The prospect of going on a sit-down dinner date has your stomach in knots. It’s been a hot minute since the last time you’ve done so, but you’re eager to know the man behind the screen on a more personal level. Plus, being treated to a high-scale restaurant with two Michelin stars doesn’t seem too bad either. You’re never one to turn down free dinner.

You: I’d love to, but how soon we talkin’? Gotta see if it’ll align with my schedule.

Kazuki: How’s this Friday at 8 sound? :)

The days leading up to Friday breeze by in a blur. For the majority of the week, it feels like you’re walking on cloud nine. Eventually, the conversation transitions from the dating app to exchanging phone numbers, and since then, the two of you have been texting back-and-forth everyday.

You talk about mundane things. Work, shows, movies, books you’ve recently read, what your kids are up to–but the other things? The other messages are flirty, and sexy, and filled with so much tension that it could cut a rope in half.

In between messages, the two of you have also exchanged a few photos. Nothing risqué or anything of that nature, just random photos of you throughout the day. The last one he sent was a few hours ago of him at work, captioned with: ‘Could this meeting be any longer?’.

You reply to the message with the ‘ha ha’ reaction, in consideration of not wanting to get him in trouble at work (even if he was the one who initiated the conversation). As the days go by, though, you make it a habit to update Shoko every step of the way.

Her first reaction to hearing about him was enthusiastic. That is, until you showed her screenshots from his profile. You vaguely remember her saying something that was meant as a compliment, but came out more like an insult.

“‘Oh, he’s a dad!” was her initial response, “oh, he’s a dad…and he really loves his kids. You’re meant for each other.’”

When you tried to ask her what she meant by that, she changed the subject. Every update since then has earned slightly more positive reactions, though.

Today, you ask her for more advice. Only this time, you’re on video call.

“Shokoooo,” you drawl, “our date is tomorrow! You have to help me find something to wear.” The panic in your voice is so palpable, she can almost feel your shaky hands through the screen. Flipping the camera, you hurriedly pan your phone around the closet.

“Breathe, girl, breathe,” she demonstrates first, before telling you to repeat the same motions. “Take me to that section over there–no, not that one–wait, yep, there.” You amble over to the area she’s directing you to through the phone.

“What’s that black little number right there?” She points. You prop the phone up on a shelf and scour through the section, tugging out a dress you haven’t seen in ages (which has you questioning how she even spotted it because it was pretty far back into the closet). Walking back into frame, you hold the fabric up to your body.

Shoko nods in approval, “That’s the one, babe. Try it on!”

It’d been about a decade since the last time you wore this dress. It’d also been about a decade since you were ever this small. Looking in the mirror, you run your hands over every surface inch, every crevice of the dress, in a newfound sense of appreciation for the adult weight you’ve gained since becoming a mother.

The dress was always stunning but it hugged everything perfectly even more so now. When you walk back into frame, your friend gives you a look of pure adoration. She’s so enthralled that she snaps a few screenshots for keepsaking.

“Thank god it’s Satoru’s turn to get the kids tonight,” she says, “‘cause you’re definitely getting some tonight.”

You roll your eyes, reminding her she’s on speaker phone. “Oh, please. It’s just dinner!”

“Not in that dress,” she retorts, wagging her finger in the camera. While the two of you continue to chat about the details of tonight, a knock on your bedroom door draws your attention.

“Mom, can I come in?” the voice sounds. It’s Haruki.

“Come in, hon!”

After you give the ok, you turn to Shoko and mouth to her to behave. Haruki turns the knob and enters, closing the door behind her. She sees you standing in front of the mirror before you see her, and silently utters a ‘wow’. You’re just about done putting your earrings in when you join her in the other room.

“What do you think, bun? Does your mom look hot?” you spin around, smoothing your hands down the length of the dress. You wait in anticipation for her approval, because if anyone could tell it like it is, it was always going to be a kid. Your Haruki was no exception.

“You look really pretty, Mom. I’m glad you’re going out tonight, I mean, you don’t really have friends so I think this will be good for you,” she elaborates, though you wish she would’ve stopped at the compliment.

Still, it puts a smile on your face to hear her verbalize that she’s okay with you doing something for yourself. You never quite discussed the prospect of getting back out there with your kids–and not even intentionally. It just never felt like the right time.

“You could’ve stopped at the compliment, punk!” you grab her, then wrap her in your arms, “but thank you. Love you, bun.”

“Love you more, mama.” Neither of you make the effort to pull away. Instead, you both stand there. Hugging, breathing, embracing each other’s warmth. You don’t always get hugs this good, so when you do, you savor it. Drag it out until your arms and legs get all tingly.

Or until someone interrupts. Another knock on the door. This time it’s Hana.

“Ew, what’s going on?” Hana feigns a look of disgust. You know she’s just jealous; she’ll never admit it, though. Which is why sometimes you have to force her to participate.

“Get over here,” you scrunch your nose, forcefully pulling her into your tight embrace. She tries to protest but eventually accepts defeat. You squeeze them both until they whine that they can’t breathe anymore. Then you squeeze them some more because this one’s for you.

“My special girls,” you breathe in, taking in all of their love. Soaking it all up so that tonight you have the courage to try again. To allow yourself a love of your own. When you let go, there’s a sniffle from the closet. It totally dawned on you that Shoko was still on the phone.

“They’re so big now, they don’t even know their auntie,” she fakes a sob, blowing her nose into a tissue.

“Mom, who’s on the phone?” Haruki queries with a confused expression etched onto her face. It suddenly dawns on you again that although you’ve been communicating with Shoko again, you haven’t exactly told them.

“Hey, you came in here to tell me something right, Han?” Your attempt to change the subject is poorly done, which doesn’t come as a surprise to you considering deflection has never quite been an ability you excelled at. Nonetheless, the look of suspicion they give you after is fleeting before they explain to you in unison that their father is here.

“Your father’s been waiting down there this whole time and nobody cared to tell me?” you whisper-yell, left eye twitching to emphasize your ill-preparedness. The girls only shrug their shoulders in response, like this was something you were just supposed to know.

“Well, you did force us into a hug and make us do all that Kumbaya stuff,” Hana mumbles under her breath.

“Okay, enough about all that. Are you guys all packed? Where are your bags? I don’t want your dad seeing–”

“You don’t want dad to see your date, right?” Hana raises a brow, all knowing. Sometimes she was a little too smart for her own good. You want to blame that on the private schools Satoru had them enrolled in, but really you just know she’s just a menace in her own right. She learned that from him.

“I agree with the kid,” a voice chimes in. You rush to the closet and grab your phone from the shelf. There’s a huge, shit-eating grin on Shoko’s face. Somehow she’s responsible for this. You don’t know how yet, nor do you have proof, but you know it.

“Okay, thank you, love you, bye!” Before you can hang up, Shoko blurts something.

“Tell him I said hi,” she begins, “–andnottogetahardonwhenheseesyou!”

You hang up the call and roll your eyes, chuckling to yourself because of her idiocy. When you enter the corridor, you hear a faint sound of hushed voices from downstairs. It’s only when you round the bannister at the top, when those voices become discernible and louder.

You stop at the top, and when your eyes meet his, it feels like all the air in your lungs have expelled. Suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of what you’re wearing, and the fabric, and the way it clings to your body. Neither he, nor you, look away–you should, you want to, but you don’t.

And in the time the two of you gaze upon the other, time stops for a modicum of a second. In this second, you and him are the last two souls in the world. At least, that’s how it feels anyway before he breaks eye contact.

You shift your gaze shortly after, and put on a trained smile. Those eyes of his were always so intense. You guess you forgot over the years how easy it was to lose yourself in the crystalline pools of them. Gathering your wits, you resume your movements and saunter down the imperial staircase.

“Hey, didn’t mean to keep you waiting. Sort of lost track of time, but I think the girls are all packed,” you say, your voice coming to a decrescendo upon noticing the way his eyes trail over your frame. They’re unreadable, though. Indifferent, and honestly, you’re not sure how to feel. So, you begin fidgeting uncomfortably with the rings around your finger.

Then, he smiles. It’s eerie and fake. “Not a problem, I haven’t been here too long. But, uh,” he begins ambling around the place, touching random objects around the living room, “Didn’t know you had plans. What’s the occasion? Going out for drinks with your colleagues?”

You furrow your brows, confused with his sudden interests in your plans. It wasn’t really like him to prod. “No, actually,” you rock back-and-forth on the balls of your heels, “i’m…i’m going on a date,” you finish with a pursed smile. He only nods his head in response, still walking around the place touching stuff, messing with the picture frames on the mantle. They’re all crooked now.

“How come this is the only picture you have up of me,” he asks suddenly. You know, that he knows, the answer to that. And he knows, that you know, you’ll indulge in his games anyway.

“The girls wanted them in their rooms. Why do you ask? You want me to go grab them and put ‘em all up around the house?” Again, he doesn’t say anything. Just gives you a final once over before heading back to the foyer to ask if the girls are all set to go.

“Yeah, but I can’t find my tablet, dad. Can I go look for it?” Haruki speaks up. “I thought I packed it.”

Satoru looks at the time on his watch, pinches the crease in between his brows. “Sure, kiddo. Can we make it quick, please?” He throws his hand in the air for emphasis, then points to his watch. Haruki nods, then runs up the stairs.

“Actually, you go on up too and help your sister. You guys are holding up dad,” you turn to Hana and gesture for her to head up with your head. She rolls her eyes, yelling up the stairs for her younger sister to ‘freaking hurry up’.

You and Satoru both turn to each other with wide eyes, laughing at the nerve of those children.

“They get that attitude from you, you know,” you point to him, driving your index finger into his bicep.

“You sure? Their mom’s got a pretty bad mouth on her, too. Or, have you forgotten?” He teases, bending his knees slightly to level his eyes with yours, intruding into your space. The smirk he dons is cheeky, too friendly–too inviting. You want to smack it off of him.

“Oh, shut u–” the sound of your phone chiming interrupts your banter. It’s a message from Kazuki, and you open it while Satoru stands over you. Probably close enough to read the message on his own if he wanted.

Kazuki: Hey, I hate to do this but I don’t think I can go through with tonight.

When you read the message, your heart drops into your stomach. There goes the other shoe, you think, fully embracing your pessimism. Who were you kidding, really? To think that tonight you’d go out and have a good time. Do something for yourself. It was stupidity.

Chat bubbles pop up on the screen. He has more to say.

He has more to say, and you’re fighting the urge to cry–to not shake out of sheer frustration while you’re still standing in front of Satoru. Because nothing would be worse than him seeing you can’t even land a date.

Kazuki: I recently just went through a divorce, and I know that I should have informed you about this before continuing our conversations…Especially since you’ve been so transparent with me about your own divorce and strife.

Kazuki: But if I’m being completely honest, I was scared. I genuinely wanted to see this through, at first. I wanted to forget about my ex-wife for just one night. But I realized I’ve been asking the impossible of myself…I’m still in love with her, and it’s because I’m in love with her that I won’t allow myself to lead you on any further.

Kazuki: I think we would’ve had a good time tonight. It's unfortunate we had to meet under such circumstances because you’re a really lovely woman, and I’m sorry an asshole is standing you up right now.

Kazuki: Take care. I know there’s a guy out there just waiting for his shot.

Satoru takes notice of the way your face drops as you read over the messages. Part of him wants to overstep his boundaries and take a peek at the screen. But he doesn’t. He gives you your space and takes a seat on the couch, waits for you to say something first.

In the meantime, he studies your face. Watches intently as your eyes become glossy the more you scan the messages, watches as your bottom lip catches between your teeth to hold back from crying. He thinks he knows what just happened.

Taking a deep breath, you lock your phone and put on another trained smile, “Well, looks like I’m staying in tonight.” Satoru dislikes when you do that. When you put on a fake smile and overcompensate to make others around you feel better, even when it’s so very obvious you aren’t. He wishes that sometimes you would just be selfish–act out.

And then you continue the façade. It makes his skin itch.

“I was too tired anyway, guess I can just catch up o–”

“Will you stop,” he spits, rising from his seat on the couch to stand. It comes out harsher than he intended, but he doesn’t regret it. You look at him like he’s got two heads as he walks over to the mantle and leans against it. His back is turned towards you, and the palms of his hands hold the crest of it. He uses it as leverage to rock on the heels of his feet. You can tell there’s something he wants to say because of the way his jaw ticks.

Satoru is never one to bite his tongue, so you’re not exactly sure why he’s choosing to be so restrained. If he wasn’t going to spit it out, you were going to poke. “What’s your problem?”

He chuckles at this, rubs his chin then pushes off the mantle to stand in front of you, gets all in your space again. The movement almost sends you back but you hold your ground, tilt your chin up at him and repeat the question. Slowly, this time with more venom.

“My problem? What’s your problem?” He breathes through his nose, his eyes flickering back-and-forth between your own. “Why do you always pretend like you’re not lonely? It’s okay if you were looking forward to having fun tonight. It’s okay to be upset and be mad at the asshole who stood you up!”

With every verbal prod at you, the gap between you decreases. His feet inch closer and closer to your own and force you to retreat farther until your back hits the wall. The coldness of it causes your breath to hitch, and you try to stay calm as Satoru encroaches more into your personal space. Being on the receiving end of his passion was always suffocating, you feel exposed under the intensity of his gaze–even more so as he continues to tear into you.

“Why do you even care?!” you cut him off, eyes wide and veins pumping full of adrenaline. “It’s not your place to be so invested in my life anymore! We’re not together, you don’t have to get so hot and bothered about things going shitty for me. I’m a big girl, and I’m perfectly capable of fighting my own battles.”

By the time you finish, you’re a heaving, shaking mess. He takes this as a sign to withdraw from your space, and goes to sit back down on the couch. When you finally settle your nerves, you join him, leaving a foot of space in between you. There’s an awkward silence, one that wouldn’t have even happened if he just respected your boundaries in the first place. Now he feels like the asshole instead of the actual asshole who dumped you. Taking a hesitant breath, he decides to speak up.

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t…It wasn’t my intention to come off so strong like that,” he begins, “I just wanted to let you know that you don’t always have to pretend to be fine. It’s not fair, you shouldn’t do that to yourself.” His eyes wander over to you reluctantly, like he’s scared that if he looks too long you’ll disengage from the conversation.

“It’s okay,” your voice is small, just above a whisper. You want to face him, but you know that if you do, you'll break into a million pieces. So you keep your gaze downward, busy yourself with the stray pieces of thread on the bottom of your dress. “You’re right, you know. I think I just…I think I just tell myself to expect disappointment so that when something bad happens, I’ll know it’s not because I got my hopes up.”

Satoru turns to you, and you can see him frown through your peripheral. Still, you don’t face him because you’re not done talking. But you thank him silently for listening without interrupting.

“Even though you’re right, I don’t appreciate the way you came on so strongly. We’re not married anymore, we’re not a couple–we’re co-parents. So if there’s something I want you to know about that’s outside of the scope of our kids, I’ll let you know. Otherwise, leave it alone.”

Satoru’s face softens. For once you’re being selfish, putting your foot down. This is the side of you he likes. “Okay. I respect that,” he says, “But can I ask you something?” The smile on his face is mirthful, like he’s got something else up his sleeves this evening. Skeptical, you finally face him with a raised brow.

“What?”

“Let me take you to dinner.”

You laugh in his face, even go as far as smacking his arm because you want him to know you found the joke really funny. He doesn’t budge, and that’s when you realize he’s being serious.

“Wait, what?”

“Let’s go to dinner,” he stands up, crossing his arms across his chest. You tilt your head in disbelief. You’re just waiting for someone to tell you you’re on that old reality show punk’d.

“Funny, I just poured my heart out to you and now you’re making fun of me,” you roll your eyes, feigning annoyance.

“I’m being serious,” he reassures, “you’re already dressed up. It’d be a shame for it to go to waste.” His eyes are twinkling with hope, and once again, you find yourself falling victim to their persuasiveness.

Being under Gojo Satoru’s gaze was suffocating.

Giving in, you ask, “So what are you gonna do? Drive all the way home to get dressed?”

The question is genuine, but the bastard just grins. “I’m a little hurt,” he throws a hand over his heart, “don’t you know me by now? I’m a businessman. I keep pressed blazers and slacks on me at all times.”

He swings his keys around his index finger, hoping that the promise of a spare change of clothes being in his car is enough to convince you to say yes.

“I don’t know…” you trail.

“C’mon, let me take you out. I promise you won’t regret it.”

Somehow he was able to persuade you into going out. After he changed into his spare clothes, you ended up telling your girls that there was gonna be a change of plans, and that they’d go home with their dad tomorrow.

Of course, before leaving, you made sure to leave some money on the table for pizza, and you also made sure to drill into their heads not to open the door for anyone except the delivery guy. You knew they knew the drill already, but it didn’t feel right to leave without saying it anyway.

“Be good, listen to your sister, she’s in charge,” you pinch Haruki’s cheek. Hana smirks, nodding her head in agreement with you.

“I will mom, I know,” she huffs, crossing her arms.

“And you,” your finger wags at Hana, her smirk drops. “Don’t provoke your sister, be nice. Act like you love each other, please.”

“Fine, whatever. I guess,” she grabs the knob to the door, ready to kick the both of you out already. “So does this mean the two of you are back together, or?”

Satoru and you turn to each other before answering in unison, “No.”

“Okay, cool. Well, have fun,” she practically closes the door on the two of you, locking it after. Satoru is just as dumbfounded as you are, but then you break into a fit of laughter.

“Those kids, man.”

“Your kids!” you correct, pushing him playfully as the both of you walk down the pebbled pathway. He finds his equilibrium in time to unlock the car and open your side of the door. You pause before ducking inside.

“Oh, how gentlemanly of you,” you jest, “And they say chivalry is dead.”

“How could it be when I’m alive?” He says matter-of-factly, closing your side of the door. He taps the top of the car before sliding across the hood to the other side. Nice to see some things never changed.

When he gets inside and turns on the car, he puts his hand on the back of your seat to back out. The proximity sends a shiver down your spine, and you have to physically refrain from letting your eyes linger on his jaw, and his arms, and the face he makes when he’s trying to concentrate.

You try to dispel these less-than-friendly thoughts by looking somewhere, anywhere else but him. But you can’t, and it’s irritating.

This is the second time tonight you’ve been this close, and it’s only this time that you realize something about him is…different. Earlier, he didn’t really smell like anything, but you quickly notice his smell has changed.

There’s a sort of piney scent coming from him. It’s not strong or obnoxious enough to blind your nostrils, but it’s enough for you to just barely pick up on it. You almost think it was premeditated, that he took the liberty of spritzing some on before walking you to the car. Before you separated, he’d made it a habit to wear variations of woody scents for you. If you can recall correctly, a passing comment you made about the cologne he was wearing that day is what sparked the habit.

Surely, this couldn’t be coincidental?

“You smell nice,” you blurt, filling in the silence.

Satoru glances at you, “Thank you.” You hate that from the corner of your eye, you can see his stupid little smirk growing bigger by the minute. He already had a big ego, it didn’t need to be stroked any more.

“Don’t let it go to your head, though. You usually smell pretty rank.”

“Ohhh, is that so? Guess I gotta start wearing this more often then, huh?”

“Sure, do what you want,” you say, trying to remain indifferent even though you’re failing terribly to hide your smile. When the car approaches a red light, you finally decide to ask the big question. “So where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see,” he glances over, “Just know I’m good friends with the owner, so last minute reservations weren't a problem.”

The rest of the car ride is silent, save for the low hum of the music playing on the radio. When you arrive at the location, Satoru makes sure to walk all the way around to your side of the door again and open it. Immediately after, the two of you are greeted by a young male. He’s wearing a white button down, black slacks, and a black vest with a red tie. Judging by his appearance, you assume he’s a valet driver.

Satoru drops his keys in the driver’s hands, and escorts you towards the entrance. The boy bows and goes to park the car. Looking around, you start to wonder where exactly this place is supposed to be. The area is dark and secluded, and from where you stand outside, it doesn’t sound like there’s supposed to be a restaurant here. You don’t hear any voices, you don’t even see any security or other passerbyers.

Still, you follow behind him like a duckling, only coming to a halt when he leads you to a door taller than the both of you. He gestures for you to back up, then raises his knuckles to blow a strong, single knock. You’re taken by surprise when a set of angry eyes appear behind a slot in the door.

The pair of eyes first scan over you, then Satoru. A gruff voice is second to accompany them, “Where can I get a good drink?”

“I heard the bar down the street is nice,” Satoru answers. The hatch to the door closes, then swings open the door, and the man behind it moves aside to welcome you in.

“Follow me, please.” Once he closes the door, he begins guiding you down the dimly lit hallway. After making what seems like your hundredth turn, you eventually reach a staircase. The man gestures for you to go on ahead, and you think this is him implying where the three of you will depart.

“Thank you,” you say softly, disappearing down the stairs. Satoru isn’t too far behind, keeping a pace between you. As you near the end of the long, narrow hallway, a stream of white light brightens up your whole path. It leads you down to another door like a beacon of light, and when you reach it, you can hear voices, live music, and dishes clanking on the other side. It’s bustling with life. A huge, joyous smile plasters across your face. It’s almost child-like in appearance, like you haven’t seen something this cool in a long time.

Satoru stands beside you and winks. “What d’ya think? Any idea yet where we are?”

“I think this is fucking cool, and hm,” you take a second to mull it over, “are we at a speakeasy?”

“Smart girl. Now come on.” Stepping back, you allow him to pull open the door, and when he does, there isn’t a word to describe the atmosphere of the place you step into. All you can do is stand there in astonishment. Before long, a man walks up to you.

“Welcome, what is the name you reserved under?”

“Gojo.”

Nodding, the host instructs you to follow after him. He leads you to a private seating area, somewhere far in the back that’s secluded from the other patrons. The space is much bigger, and much more extravagant. You know you’re only sitting way back here because Satoru is who he is. And in all the years you’ve known him, his connections were just another party trick in his arsenal.

The hostess seats you, then Satoru, and tells you that a waiter will be with you shortly.

“This is nice, really nice, but is it–”

“Legal?” he finishes your sentence, “don’t worry. It’s a modern speakeasy-style restaurant. There’s nothing illegal going on here, promise.”

While you wait for your designated waiter, your focus shifts from the man in front of you to the man singing on the stage. Up until now, his voice was white noise in the background, but then he started singing a tune scarily reminiscent of your past–and your breath catches in your throat.

If I ever leave you, baby

You can say I told you so

And if I ever hurt you

You know, I hurt myself…

Turning your gaze back to Satoru, you squint your eyes mirthfully in disbelief. You wonder if this is just a funny coincidence, if this is the universe playing her tricks, but you know deep down, that coincidences and Gojo Satoru don’t belong in the same sentence.

You open your mouth to speak, but quickly close it when you see the waiter approaching from the corner of your eye. He greets the both of you with a polite smile, then sets down two glasses of water.

“Good evening, I’ll be your waiter for the night,” he says, placing a menu in front of you, “Can I get you fine folks started off with a bottle of wine?”

Satoru nods, tells him to bring the best bottle of red they have and then gestures for him to come closer so that he can whisper something in his ear. All the while, you sit back in your seat observing, clicking your nails on the table until the server pulls back and bows.

When he departs, you immediately lean in over the table, and ask, “Just how much time did you have to plan all of this?”

Satoru feigns aloofness, taking a sip of his water, “What do you mean?”

You roll your eyes, gesturing at the stage with your eyes. Then, as if suddenly coming to a realization, he goes, “Oh, that? Yeah, I had nothing to do with that. But isn’t it funny they’re playing our old song?”

Now he’s smirking, with his elbow leaning back on the chair, and a gaze so piercing, you’re certain you’ll crumble into nothing unless you look away. So you do, avert your gaze back to the stage and sway calmly.

Is that any way for a man to carry on

Do you think I want my loved one gone

Said I love you

More than you’ll ever know

“So funny,” you counter.

Eventually, the server comes back with a bottle. “1982 Chateau Latife Rothschild,” he holds it out to present, “Is this alright?”

Despite the years spent with Satoru, and the many elitist events you often attended with him, your knowledge on wine had never surpassed anything but surface level. You knew the difference between good wine and cheap wine was the taste, but your taste buds had grown accustomed to store-bought, so if anything, store-bought tasted like heaven to you. Anyway, though, you nod your head and urge him to pour a glass.

“Thank you,” you smile, before gently swirling the glass and bringing it up to your nose to smell (something you only know to do after being the odd man out at so many company banquets). Satoru waits for you to sip your glass before he sips his. The way you melt into your seat is a silent assurance that you’re pleased.

“This is great, you’re amazing,” you tell the server, who seems pleased by your compliment.

“Glad to be of service, miss. Are you ready to order?”

Dinner goes by smoothly. In fact, it goes by so smoothly, you and Satoru finish the entire bottle of wine. Now you sit at the table, bellies full, faces flushed and sore from laughing, and now you find yourself telling him about the grocery store incident. If you had half a mind (a sober one), you’d shut up right this second to save yourself from the embarrassment. But you don’t. And Satoru’s very persuasive when you’re tipsy.

“Keep going,” he leans in, hand nestled under his chin. He’s completely invested in the story. Actually, as soon as he heard the words ‘store’ and ‘cute guy’, he just had to know more. And you begging him to change the subject didn’t help, not when the sadist in him loved to see you so embarrassed.

“Fine,” you hiccup, “It was so - so bad, Toru.” He doesn’t miss the way you slip and call him by the nickname you’d always reserved for him. It makes his heart race, and god, does he miss the way it sounds spilling from your lips. But he ignores the feeling, and refocuses on your story instead. Which, by the way, was proving to be a task in itself because his eyes couldn’t stop drifting back down to your lips. So soft, so–

“And then she said ‘we don’t believe in rings,’” you whisper, fist coming down on the table. The sound it makes nearly sobers you up, and you realize just how loud you’re being despite your table being secluded from others. Giggling like a kid, you continue, “I mean, how fucking insane is that?!”

“Something as bizarre as that could only ever happen to you,” he replies, laughing along with you, “those people were crazy.”

“The craziest,” you agree, throwing your head back in another fit of laughter. Gradually, the two of you begin to settle down, and once again, you find your attention being drawn back to the man on the stage. Only this time, he’s making an announcement.

“Good evening ladies and gentleman. Tonight I’ve got a special request,” he says, looking out into the audience. Looking at you. “This one’s for a very special lady who, from what I’ve been told, is a great mother that needs to start doing things for herself.”

The singer steps out of the spotlight and hands the note to a server. Your server. Then he begins to sing, and your heart drops into the pit of your stomach. It was your wedding song.

[...] I don’t even know how to love you

Just the way you want me to

But I’m ready (ready) to learn (to learn)

Yes, I’m ready (ready) to learn (to learn)

“Now this one? This one was me,” Satoru leans forward, and you swiftly turn your head to face him. He smiles as he watches your face go through ten different emotions before ultimately softening. It warms your heart to see how incredibly planned this evening was, despite the amount of time he was given to work with. Even so, it kind of scares you–because then that meant this was a grand gesture–that this was his way of saying something. And you weren’t too sure if you wanted to hear it. Your gaze drops to your lap, and Satoru frowns.

To fall in love

To fall in love with you…

“Look at me,” he says softly, but you don’t. “Hey, look at me.” He reaches over the table to take your chin in between his fingers. The touch alone feels electric. Sends liquid hot lightning down the column of your spine. Reluctantly, you meet his gaze, and like always, it’s suffocating. They’re so wide with hope, and so, so gentle in the way they hold you. The longer you gaze upon them, the more you convince yourself it’ll be okay if you surrender to them.

“It’s been years since we’ve divorced,” his voice is shaky, almost strained, like he’s actively thinking how to choose his words carefully, “and when we sat down that night, I thought it was what I wanted, too, you know? And for a while, it was,” he reaches a hand across the table to rest atop your own, “but you gotta know…you gotta know–you’re it for me. There’s no one else on this Earth that I want to start over with. You’ve always been the beginning and end of my story, and I’ll be damned if I let another man start one with you.”

Your heart is beating faster than you can even process what he’s saying. The only thing you’re focused on is not passing out in the middle of this damn restaurant. But then he’s squeezing your hand, and your focus is drawn back to those piercing, pale blues that even put crystals to shame.

“So what do you say?” he says, so softly, so tender. “Can we try again?”

Waiting for your reply, he squeezes your hand again. It’s like your soul is wandering the line between death and the living, and his touch is the tether that brings you back. In the background, the tune of the song sung at your wedding gives you a push of courage.

I don’t even know how to kiss your lips (kiss your lips)

At a moment like this

But I’m going to learn how to do

All the things you want me to

Yes, I’m ready

(Are you ready?) Yes, I’m ready

To fall in love

To fall in love right now

“Yes.”

The walk back to the car is hurried. Aided by both, years and years of built up tension, and the liquid courage currently bubbling in your systems.

The race back to his apartment is even faster. You thank the gods silently that it’s within close proximity to where you just were.

Once you get there, make your way past the doorman and concierge (who both give the two of you a knowing look), go up the elevator, and finally get into his loft–it’s over. Years of restraint, years of pretending, wanting–yearning, come crashing down.

There’s barely any time to close the door before he’s pushing you against it. His lips trail down the column of your neck, then come up to kiss your jaw, until eventually, they find your lips. And when they do, it’s instantaneous–that familiar feeling, the feeling that feels almost like falling.

Once again, for what felt like centuries, you feel again the rush of helplessness. The push and pull of the tide. It brings you down, down, down to the bottom of the ocean floor, and it’s unmerciful.

Kissing Satoru is like being shocked with ten thousand volts of energy. Like all this time you’ve spent not kissing him, has been costing you your life, and he’s the only one who can deliver you salvation. It’s all teeth and tongue for a minute. Messy, and sticky, and nasty. A true testament to the desperation brewing in the pits of both your stomachs.

The sensation of it all has your knees going slack, and that’s when he says–

“Jump.”

Obeying, you do just that. Jump right into his arms, and wrap your legs around his torso like you’ve done so many times before. The way you feel now is the way you used to feel before then, too. Like you were made to fit like this. To be held in his arms like you were molded from the same clay.

Carefully, he adjusts his grip on your body. Keeps his palms planted on the bottoms of your ass, and begins the trek to his room. He struggles a bit getting there because you haven’t stopped kissing since entering the apartment, but he figures it out after a stumble or two (which resulted in a bitten lip and you apologizing profusely through giggles).

“The turbulence up here is crazy, don’t blame me, blame the pilot,” you jest, kissing down his neck to make up for it.

“I’ll make sure to let him know,” he jokes back. As soon as he gets to the bed, he sets you down at the edge of the bed. You try to bring him down to your height but he stops you, wags his finger in your face playfully before using it to push you back into the bed. His fingers start to play with the fabric of your dress, and then his face takes on an indifferent expression. The same one from earlier that night when he first saw you walking down the stairs.

“Can’t believe you were gonna wear this for him…” he trails, lifting the fabric up slowly, eyeing you while doing so, “as if this dress doesn’t mean something.”

Of course, when Shoko chose it, its significance did make you falter–but in your defense, not once did you ever anticipate for him to see you in it. And you especially didn’t expect for him to remember it, the last time you wore it was almost a decade ago.

“I didn’t…” you start, a smile creeping on your lips, “think you remembered?”

“‘Course I did, how could I not?” He says more sharply than intended, taking offense. He takes offense because he spent the better half of the night showing you he remembered. The little things and everything else in between. Couldn’t you see that?

“It was our 4th anniversary. Bought you this dress and fucked you in it that same night. Funny how the second time I’m seeing you in this dress, the circumstances are the same except only this time we’re divorced,” he says, crawling over your body. “Guess I gotta show you just how much I remember.”

With that, he slips a hand under your dress, pulls your panties to the side and runs a finger down your slit. Oh-so-willingly, do you spread your legs for him. It’s almost subconscious, the way your body responds to him. And he revels in it. Lets his fingers work you, feel you, bring you to ecstasy. Then he heightens your pleasure tenfold when he kisses his way down your body, and takes a seat before you on his knees.

Unceremoniously, he pulls your body to the edge of the bed. Takes his time slipping your panties down the length of your legs, then kisses the insides of your thighs, before finally stopping at your mound.

Slowly, he lowers himself to your cunt, kisses your clit softly. Once, twice, three times. The pace in which he’s moving is killing you, to say the least. But you know he’s savoring the moment, making up for all the years he spent not kneeling like this between your legs. So you let him; let him caress you all over before he comes seeking the honey-sweet salvation dripping from your core.

The second his tongue makes contact with your heat, you find yourself clamping a heavy hand over your mouth. “Fuck, Toruuuu,” you drawl, back arching off the bed. Pleased with his abilities, he smiles smugly, using this as an opportunity to push himself even deeper. Up and down, he licks at your slit, uses his fingers in tandem with his tongue to prod at that spongy spot he knows you love.

“Tastes,” a harsh suck, “so good,” another, “better than I remember.”

You know he’s talking, but his words fall on deaf ears. You’re so caught up in your own high, you don’t even take notice of the obscene sloshing sounds coming from your pussy, or the moans you’re making. All you can do is lay there and take it as he takes, and takes, and takes from you.

Soon, you find your orgasm cutting through you like a knife, and you come with a strangled cry that has you biting back tears. Satoru talks you through the whole thing. He lays his head down on your thigh and continues working you with his fingers until you start to shake from the overstimulation.

For a few, you lay and stare at the ceiling. You think you can see the Milky Way–and all the constellations that make it up. It feels like your soul is floating beyond your physical body, and you don’t come back down to Earth until a sharp, stinging sensation brings you back. Did he just?

“Did you just bite me?” you lift your head, peering down to see the evidence. In all its glory, there it was; a red ring smack-dab in the inside of your thigh with teeth imprints. Looking at Satoru, he grins.

“Had to get you back from earlier,” he says, sitting back on his knees. You attempt to kick him with your foot, but he grabs hold of it. Pretending to be wounded, he gasps, “Is this how you treat the man who just gave you a soul-shattering orgasm?”

You roll your eyes, but to your dismay, it only encourages him to continue.

“Fuck, Toru,” he mimics, “oh my god, Toru. You fuck me so goo–”

“Alright, enough!” you manage to kick him this time, laughing as you bring up your hands to cover your face. “Keep carrying on like that and I won’t let you fuck me…” You’re serious in your bite, but he’s smirking. Like he knows you’re full of bullshit.

“Yeah right. You and I both know I make you feel too good.”

Feeling bested, you scoff, though, there’s no real weight behind it. While he begins to remove his shirt, you sit up and replace his hands. He relinquishes control and allows you to unbutton it until the item falls haphazardly to the floor.

He’s so beautiful, you think. Still so chiseled, so perfect after all these years since you’ve last seen him like this. At his most vulnerable. The only difference now is that there are more freckles littered across his skin. Back then, he’d say they were signs of aging, and he’d hate them.

But he’s older now. More mature. So much so that he even winks at you when you trace your fingertips over them.

“They suit you,” you whisper.

“Yeah?”

You nod your head, “mhm.”

Continuing your ministrations, you begin removing his belt. He holds your gaze the entire time it takes for you to unzip his pants and pull them down–and he doesn’t once shy away when you discover the wet spot on the front of his briefs. Slowly, delicately, you remove the soiled item and let it fall down to the floor with the rest of his clothes.

Still looking at him, you take hold of his length and fist him once, twice, experimentally. A dribble of pre oozes from his slit and you bring it to your mouth. All the air in his lungs expel into the air when you lick it off with your tongue, and god, he thinks he could come from that alone.

God, he’s missed you. Missed your touch, your lips–the way you hold him with your eyes like he’s something worth being gentle with. Nothing could ever compare to you, not even his own hand.

As soon as you’re about to take him in your mouth, he stops you. Pushes you back down onto the bed and slots himself between your legs. “No more playing, I’m tired of playing,” he breathes, lowering himself down until half of his weight is on top of you.

Guiding his cock to your entrance, he pushes past your folds with little resistance. The feeling of your cunt squeezing him in has his arms wobbling like jelly, but he musters enough strength somehow to stay up. You, on the other hand, are close to tears.

The more he eases himself in, the more you feel like you’re being stretched open (despite him previously prepping you). If you were being truthful, this wasn’t a complete shock to you. You’ve known that he’s always been big, but something about tonight feels different. Or maybe it’s just been too long since you’ve had something more than just your own fingers.

Even so, you try your best to ignore the burn of the stretch. You throw your arms around his neck and invite him deeper into you, hooking your legs around him so tightly that it renders his limbs useless. For a minute, all you can feel is the weight of him inside of you, and his chest against yours as they rise and fall asynchronously.

“Toru,” your voice is just barely above a whisper, but enough to make the hairs on the nape of his neck stand. “Make love to me.”

Heeding your request, he begins moving. Painfully slow, he unsheathes himself from you until only the head of his cock is inside, then pushes himself all the way back in with force. Again, and again, he repeats this motion. Pulls out, pushes in. Pulls out, pushes in, until he decides to increase his pace and set a steady rhythm.

Every thrust into you is meticulously calculated. Sharp, and forceful, and not once does he disrupt the rhythm. He listens carefully to the sounds you make. Even listens to the way your breath hitches when he hits a spot right. Everything he’s doing is perfect–and it’s to no surprise. Deep down, you know that Satoru knows your body like the back of his hand. He’d know it if you were all old and wrinkly. He’d know it if his soul reincarnated. Hell, he’d know it blind.

“Missed this,” he grunts, burying his head into the interstice of your neck, “missed you,” a kiss to your neck, “missed us.”

The veracity of his words render you speechless. He’s already professed his feelings for you tonight, but it feels even more real now that you’re beneath him. To be loved by Gojo Satoru was a feeling many couldn’t say they had the consolation of knowing. Only a few in his circle could hold that position–but only one person in this world could truly ever know his love to its fullest extent. You.

Satoru continues his mindless rambling, “I love you,” a thrust, “it’s always been you,” another, “was always going to be you.” Leaning back on his heels, he pushes your dress all the way up to reveal your breasts. Now it’s him who sits back and admires this time. As if he were reacquainting himself, he traces the planes and pastures of your chest with an eager hand. He runs it up and over each mound, squeezing and kneading the flesh experimentally.

Then, he dips down and kisses the space between them. Sucks and licks until the skin bruises, and he has evidence to prove tonight actually happened. Eventually, he withdraws from your chest and returns his focus on easing his cock in and out of your cunt.

“So beautiful,” he says, but it’s more to himself than anything. You’re so lost in your own pleasure, he doesn’t even think you can hear him. “Want you to cum on my cock, know you can do it, baby. Know you can,” he grunts, taking your hand and intertwining it with his own. Letting his head fall into your neck, he begins to quicken his pace. Fucks into you with everything he’s got and willing to give.

“Toru,” you finally manage to say, “‘m so close, keep going. Do it - do it inside.”

Do it inside. Do it inside. Do it inside. The thought is tempting, too tempting. It makes his dick twitch inside of you, and he swears if you say it again, he’ll actually do it. But he knows better than to listen to anything you say out of delirium.

“Trust me, sweet girl,” he cradles your face, to which you lean into, “I want to - I want to so fucking badly. But we both know you’d regret it later.”

Whining, your lips form into a pout, and the sight is so cute, he can’t help but to kiss it off of you. Compared to your kiss earlier, this one is much sweeter. Slower. More relaxed. He kisses you with the intent of making you dizzier than you already are, and it’s scary. Even so, you don’t pull away. You allow him to drink you up. Like your lips are the only source of water around, and he’s been quenched for days.

Finally, with a few more thrusts, you reach your climax. The pressure building in the pit of your belly pops like a balloon, and everything goes white. “Toru!” you shriek, arching off the bed and trembling in his grasp.

Using your arch as leverage, he keeps his hands underneath your back and continues to ram into you without abandon. You’re a babbling, wet mess at this point, and your cunt squeezing around him only encourages him more.

“Fuckfuckfuck, ‘m gonna - ‘m gonna,” he curses, balls beginning to tighten. Quickly, he unsheathes himself and fists himself the rest of the way. With an impassioned moan, he climaxes–spurting thick, white, ropes of seed all over your abdomen. Then, falls onto your limp body with a grunt, chest heaving rapidly, and slick with perspiration.

By this time, you’ve settled down enough to form a proper sentence. “That was…”

Satoru huffs, catching his breath. “Yeah.”

Still spent, he continues to lay atop you. And you, having nowhere else to go, let him. The two of you lay comfortably in silence like this for a long time. Just you tracing shapes into his back, and him purring into your neck. Both of you know you should be getting up, but neither of you make an effort to do so. In this moment, time is transcendent. There is no rush to move when time stands still for you.

Soon, that silence is broken.

“I love you,” you say, and there’s no elaboration. Not even a recant. In fact, you say it so nonchalantly, he’s not even sure it was real. You say it like you’ve never been more certain in your life, like it’s the easiest thing you’ve ever had to do.

“Really?” he queries, almost pathetically like the mere idea of you loving him is something unattainable. You look at him like he’s got two heads.

“Yeah, you’re my best friend. I’ve always loved you,” you admit, pausing your ministrations on his back, “I just had to relearn how to love you.” He smiles at this, hums into your neck to keep from crying.

“I’m glad we found our way back to each other,” he mumbles into your neck, “so where do we go from here?”

“From here we take it slow. We’ll learn together what it means to be individuals, and then from there we’ll see where it goes,” you say matter-of-factly, “no more repeating past mistakes.”

“Agreed,” he nods, “what will we tell the girls?”

That’s when your eyes widen and you sit up, forcefully pushing Satoru off of you.

“What did I say, what’s wrong?” he queries, sitting up on the bed. He watches you rummage around the room maniacally, head on a swivel as you run out of the room and return with a purse. You pull your phone out to see a slew of missed calls and messages.

“We forgot to call the girls!” You yell, showing him your phone screen of missed calls. Gojo jumps up to join you, one leg already sliding into his pants.

“Shit!”

Noticing the state of your appearance, you pinch the skin between your brows. “Satoru, I can’t wear this! You got cum all over it,” you groan, pointing to all the splotches of white. He tells you to wait a second before disappearing into his closet, then he comes back with a fist of clothes and throws it at you.

“I can’t wear this either, they’ll wonder why I’m wearing your clothes!”

Satoru runs to you and pull the dress off of your body, “We’ll wash it!” he screams, disappearing again out of the room, and to where you imagine, the laundry room. When he returns, he’s out of breath and panting. It’s only then do you realize how insane he looks with half his shirt buttoned, and his pants twisted around his hips. A giggle escapes your lips.

“What are you laughing at? Chop chop,” he claps, ushering you into his bathroom.

Yeah, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss this idiot.

comments + reblogs very appreciated !!!

#art by: @yamada_souko (twt)#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader smut #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo smut #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru gojo x y/n #jjk smut

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5sospenguinqueen · 4 days

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Love To Hate | Daniel Ricciardo x Gasly! Reader

Summary: Daniel Ricciardo is known for bickering with Pierre Gasly's older sister online. The fans love it but they suspect there might be something more behind it.

Warnings: Swearing. One sexual innuendo. Female reader.

Takes place in the 2022 season so Daniel is with McLaren.

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mclaren spot the difference #MonacoGP tagged: landonorris, danielricciardo

2,446 comments

YourUserName the one on the left can actually drive

→ User 1 wtf does she know about f1

→ User 2 um, her baby brother is a GP winner so…

danielricciardo @ YourUserName coming from the woman who failed her driving test twice

→ YourUserName @ pierregasly you weren’t supposed to tell your little racing friends that!

→ pierregasly do not drag me into this nonsense.

landonorris @ YourUserName thanks pookie

→ danielricciardo more like pukie

→ YourUserName you’re just mad that he gets bitches and you don’t

→ danielricciardo okay, cradle snatcher

User 3 mom and dad are fighting again

danielricciardo here’s to a good weekend 💪

→ YourUserName ass licker

→ danielricciardo you wish.

→ maxverstappen1 can you guys not do your foreplay privately

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YourUserName just posted

liked by arthur_leclerc, lilymhe and others

YourUserName soaking up the sun before the madness resumes (01/06/2022) 🌻

2,488 comments

danielricciardo i need to bleach my eyes. please cover you up before you mentally scar someone else.

→ User 5 he says like his jaw didn’t drop when this came across his timeline

User 6 how to become y/n gasly

→ YourUserName have an annoying brother and endure his equally insufferable friends

lilymhe the only reason i’m still with Alex is so i have an excuse to spend time with you in the paddock

→ YourUserName we could get married and then you could see me all the time??

→ alex_albon it’s a good thing I’m used to this or i might cry

→ georgerussle63 don’t lie. i can hear you sobbing from my hotel room.

MaleFriend wow 🥵 → danielricciardo try harder (comment deleted)

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PierreGASLY you’re both certified yappers. it’s why the two of you together is a nightmare

User 7 hmm, okay but why were you two together in the first place if you hate each other…

→ danielricciardo I was bullying her

→ YourUserName pierre ditched me to talk to a pretty girl and Daniel was making fun of the fact that I got lost

→ LandoNorris i wouldn’t have left you… just saying 👀

→ YourUserName i’m 10 years old than you, boo.

→ LandoNorris age is just a number

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danielricciardo just posted

liked by mclaren, scottyjames31 and others

danielricciardo preferred mode of transport... fast

6,443 comments

YourUserName title of your sex tape “i'm in love with my car”

YourUserName someone’s clearly compensating for something

→ danielricciardo omg why are you so obsessed with me. Get out of my comments, stalker

→ YourUserName let’s not forget you stalked me first

→ danielricciardo where’s your proof

→ pierregasly here. you begged me for her instagram until i gave in

→ danielricciardo and then i realised what a bitch she was

→ YourUserName just ‘cause i wouldn’t blow you

→ pierregasly i need you to delete this

User 1 this man is so fine

User 2 i’d like to ride

→ YourUserName you’d have more fun with the car

→ User 2 omg hi queen

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liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes and others

YourUserName last race of the season today. just wanted to say a big ‘well done’ to my baby bro. so proud of all you achieved this season and i know you’ll go on to kill it next year! 🍾 #AbuDhabiGP

3,323 comments

YourUserName yes, i know one pic has daniel. no, it’s not an announcement of our friendship. i just like how scared pear looks

User 8 i have never been more attracted to a frenchman before

danielricciardo and who is that handsome man

→ YourUserName there is not a single handsome man in this post; charles was sulking out of the frame

→ pierregasly 1) i am very handsome, 2) stay away from charles, he’s too nice for you

→ danielricciardo and too pretty

→ charles_leclerc stop it or i will fall in love with all of you

→ YourUserName @ pierregasly i’ll stop if you promise to get rid of daniel so i don’t have to see him again

→ danielricciardo and deny you of my bakery 🍑

→ User 9 it's cake, honey, but you tried

User 10 anyone catch the camera panning to y/n when daniel’s car spun out in qualifying

→ User 11 talk about delulu

→ User 12 because he almost crashed into her brother so obvi they would show her

pierregasly just posted

liked by francisca.cgomes, yukitsunoda0511 and others

pierregasly a huge thank you to my support system. je t'aime grande soeur 🌸 (she forced me to post this, please send help)

5,222 comments

YourUserName you’re such a liar! you were legit crying to me last night about how nice it is that i still come to all your races and then said you wanted the world to know

→ pierregasly don’t expose me!

→ landonorris come sit in my car instead. rub a little luck on it

→ User 12 never beating the no rizz allegations

danielricciardo @ landonorris probably best she doesn't, she’s clearly a curse, mate

→ YourUserName and how many races did you win this season?

→ danielricciardo i hope pierre pushes you off the plane tomorrow

→ YourUserName i hope you get run over in the pits

alphatauri we love having you in the garage

User 1 agreed. her hair looked so pretty today and he ruined it

User 2 only for him to then completely forget what he was saying when he realised she was wearing a white shirt? yes! it’s been playing in my head

→ User 3 can’t say i blame him. i too was no better than a man 👀

User 4 but the way he covered her body with his the second he realised to stop the camera focusing on her see-through top

→ User 5 and then gave her one of his shirts because she was walking around in a mclaren top until pierre yanked her into the alphatauri garage

→ User 6 guys, this is bare minimum. him being hot doesn’t make this extra chivalrous

User 7 another angle of that video showed it was an accident. he can be seen saying sorry a billion times and after that, they put a border around the fountain

YourUserName posted a new story

danielricciardo reposted your story

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YourUserName just posted

liked by carlossainz55, georgerussell63 and others

YourUserName happy 4 year anniversary to my professional car crasher tagged: danielricciardo

7,114 comments

User 1 i knew it! they all called me crazy

danielricciardo delete this. you said you would be a nice. i’m a champion! how many trophies do you have, huh

→ YourUserName depends on how many i steal from the trophy case in our living room (plus, those are replicas)

→ User 2 our?!?!

charles_leclerc but i thought you loved me?

→ YourUserName i do, citrouille. but, daniel and pierre are keeping us apart.

User 3 4 years? this means they were together when he was still at red bull! what did you think about him leaving?

→ YourUserName i'm not allowed to talk about that

landonorris congratulations, mum and dad

→ alex_albon congratulations, mum and dad

→ georgerussell63 congratulations, mum and dad

→ YourUserName i didn’t sign up for this responsibility

→ danielricciardo they’re a package deal, babe. they come with me

maxverstappen1 oh, thank god. It was so hard keeping this to myself in interviews

danielricciardo just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, kellypiquet and others

danielricciardo contrary to popular belief, pierre is not my favourite gasly

6,998 comments

YourUserName aww, mon coeur, you actually used nice photos

→ danielricciardo don’t speak french to me, you know it turns me on

→ maxverstappen1 i miss when you publicly hated each other

pierregasly you take that back!

pierregasly that’s it. you’re off the Christmas card list

francisca.cgomes wonderful, daniel, now he’s sulking

→ YourUserName you get used to it. they may seem cool but all f1 drivers are essentially big crybabies

→ danielricciardo hey!

→ charles_leclerc hey!

→ pierregasly hey!

→ alex_albon hey!

→ landonorris hey!

→ carlossainz55 hey!

→ georgerussell63 true

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Please request if you have any ideas you'd like to see, and I'll do my best to bring them to life <3

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strang3lov3 · 2 months

Text

Enjoy the Silence

You trespass into Joel’s house in search of some peace and quiet so you can get yourself off. Joel catches you in his bed in a compromising position. (5.2k)

That’s Pedro’s bum can you tell I love ass

Tags- pillow humping, masturbation, getting caught in the act, some humiliation but Joel talks you through it, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, prone bone, softdom Joel, little bit of crying (good tears) creampie, let me know if there’s something I missed.

A/N- Thank you to @tightjeansjavi , @notjustjavierpena , and @noxturnalpascal for all of your encouragement on this I know I’m not easy to deal with sometimes AND thank you my dear readers for being patient with me, I’ve been slacking on writing/uploading. I’d love it if you’d say hi to me, I’ve been missing you!! Hope you enjoy this one I’m glad to be back❤️🩷💜💙🩵

It’s too fucking loud tonight. You live with a group of single women in Jackson, all somewhere around your age, a few older, a few younger. You get along well with them, and they get along well with each other. Too well, perhaps. They’ve been talking for hours tonight. Hours. And they talk for hours most other nights too, especially now that the weather is starting to warm up. They’ve been making drinks and playing music, being rowdy. It’s past eleven at this point and they’re still going at it.

You can’t sleep. The blankets are too warm, but without them you’re cold. You’ve flipped your pillow over what feels like hundreds of times. It’s just one of those nights. Except every night is one of those nights, it seems. You tried touching yourself to fall asleep easier, but with no success. It’s not exactly the easiest getting off in such a full house. You’ve got privacy in your bedroom, sure. But the walls are thin and sound carries with such ease.

God, does this suck. A lot of your problems would be solved if you could just get yourself off. You sit up in bed and stare out your window and into the window of the house next to yours. Joel’s window. His lights are off now, but earlier you had caught a glimpse of him getting out of his bathroom. His hair was wet and slicked back, his skin shiny and damp. He’s so sexy, so thick. That’s when you moved your hand between your thighs as you watched him pick out clothes from his dresser, biting your lip and circling your clit frantically as you prayed for his towel to drop. It didn’t. It never does. You groaned quietly in disappointment as you watched Joel walk back to his bathroom and then come out moments later fully dressed, subsequently shutting off his lights and leaving his bedroom. For a moment, with your eyes and your thoughts focused on Joel, you were able to block out all the noise and focus on your pleasure. But then he left and the pleasure vanished.

You’ve lived next to Joel for quite a while now. More often than not he’s grumpy, keeping mostly to himself and Ellie. He’d usually just glare at you and your roommates. He can be friendly with others, though.

Once one evening, Joel had spent five minutes knocking at your door to complain about the noise. You saw it coming, you and your roommates had amassed quite a few dirty looks from him in the moments prior. You watched him through the window, glaring at your porch from his own. Your roommates were outside, talking and listening to an old but new-to-you CD. He wore a scowl and his arms were crossed at his chest when you finally opened the door.

“You ladies are chatty,” he grumbled. “Your music’s hurtin’ my ears.”

“We can be chatty, yeah,” you replied, “But you’re kinda crotchety.”

Joel sighed and rolled his eyes. “I’m askin’ you politely to keep it down,” He turned to leave then, but you tapped the back of his leg with your foot, stopping him, “You could go inside, you know,” you taunted.

Joel turned back around slowly. He looked so big, so broad as he looked down at you. “So could you.”

“Hm,” you hummed. You weren’t really sure why you were arguing with Joel when really, you agreed with him. The CD player sounds tinny and hurts your own ears at times, you can’t imagine what it does to Joel’s damaged ears. And the girls were too loud, other people live around here. But you were annoyed at the way he came over to complain about the noise level when he doesn’t know half of it, how loud it gets. “Fine. I’ll get them to quiet down if you do something for me.”

Joel raised his eyebrows, “Oh, I’m doin’ ya favors now?”

“Something like that,” you said.

“What do you want?” he asked through a sigh.

“You’re right, they’re being too loud,” you explained, “You don’t know how loud it can be, actually. I’ll try to get them to quiet down if you let me get some peace and quiet.”

“How’s that?”

“Well, your house is usually pretty quiet,” you began.

Joel nodded. “Mhm. And I like it that way.”

“And I’ll keep it that way,” you urged. “Please? My roommates are so loud, I can’t even hear myself–”

“Yeah, I know. Come on,” Joel interrupted. “Let’s go inside, then. Talk to your girls tomorrow.”

Joel led you to his house, opened the door for you and brought you inside. He offered you a glass of water and told you to make yourself at home, so you sat quietly on his sofa. Joel sat on the loveseat next to you. He figured you’d have brought a book or something to busy yourself with, but when he looked up at you after a few moments, you had curled your legs into your chest, laying sideways on his couch. He laughed to himself quietly and laid a blanket over your body, then turned out the lights and went upstairs to bed. You had never slept so peacefully. And that’s how the tradition began, Joel would let you come over to enjoy the quietness of his home. You never made good on his end of the deal, though. Your roommates stayed too loud, but it didn’t matter. You and Joel had found a system that worked for you both.

Still staring at Joel’s window, you shift your attention towards the direction of Joel’s front door when you hear it slam shut. You watch him stroll away, probably off to drink with Tommy or something like that.

Your core is still aching, a dull but constant ache. You’re thinking about Joel, unable to get the image of his slick body out of your mind. You’re thinking of the quietness of his house. Peace and quiet would be nice right about now. It’s never this late when you go over to Joel’s. You know you’re welcome over any time. Joel gave you a key to his home when you earned that privilege. But surely he didn’t have that open-door policy for what you’re thinking of using his quiet home for. He wouldn’t know though, right?

Fuck it, you decide, climbing out of your bed and sliding on a pair of slippers. First grabbing Joel’s key from your nightstand, you exit your room and go down the stairs, going towards the back door where you walk past all of your roommates in the living room who don’t seem bothered or worried about what you’re up to this late at night. The chill of the air bites at your cheeks and your shoulders. You didn’t bring a jacket, but the distance from your back door to Joel’s isn’t a long one.

You unlock his back door with your key and let yourself inside, scraping any dirt from your slippers on his doormat so as not to track it inside. It’s always quiet, but the silence is almost eerie. It makes you feel uneasy, doubly so because you know you’re doing something you shouldn’t be. But you’ll be quick. Joel won’t know, so no harm no foul.

You scan the first floor, looking for a quiet, comfortable area. Joel’s home looks almost like TV in black and white the way it’s so dark right now. The first floor is no good, you’ll feel exposed. So you walk up his stairs, and your first instinct is to go to his guest room. You spend a lot of time there anyway, when you’re not napping on his couch you’re napping in that room. But he keeps it clean for you, pristine. The bed is made neatly and tailored specifically to his taste. You’d never be able to recreate that, he’d instantly become suspicious.

Across the hall is his own bedroom, not nearly as tidy as his guest room. A clothes pile on a chair, the shade of his lamp slightly off kilter. His bed is made up of crumpled sheets and blankets, the pillows indented from the weight of his head. Joel won’t know a thing.

You tiptoe into his room, closing his door but the creak of its hinge cuts through the quiet air and startles you. Maybe it’s better to leave it untouched. You make your way quietly to his bed, first sitting on the edge, your feet dangling slightly in the air. You kick your feet a little, letting your slippers fall off. You feel so out of place here, so wrong. Like you’re invading his privacy, but you’re not. Not really. You’re not here to snoop or to do anything wrong, you’re just here to…well.

You lie back in his bed, his sheets are soft and worn, cold on the back of your legs. Their scent fills your nostrils, they smell like Joel. Like soap and his musk, slightly sweaty. It’s almost like he’s here with you. Spreading your legs and dipping your hand beneath your pajama bottoms, your mind starts to wander. Tracing your clit with your fingers, your brain is flooded with flashes of Joel. At first, it’s images of his neck, his forearms, his hands, all the veins protruding, muscles flexing. You’re circling your clit faster as you imagine he’s here with you, that it’s not his bed you’re lying against but instead his chest, he’s holding your knees apart as he nudges your head to the side with his nose, your neck exposed for him to lick and kiss and nip as you tease your cunt. You come quickly and your fantasy drifts from you. You make yourself come once more before you adjust the bedsheets slightly, put your slippers on and leave. Joel’s bedroom looks just as he left it.

You watched him, learned his evening schedule. On Tuesdays and Thursdays he’s out on evening patrol, he doesn’t come home until the early morning. Those are the nights you sneak over to his house. As time goes on, you learn that you can be less careful. You don’t bother wiping your shoes, you don’t tiptoe like you used to. You’ll push the bedroom door open wide when Joel leaves it halfway shut. When you leave, you don’t bother laying the sheets back in the way Joel has them crumpled.

Joel notices.

You still come over for your usual quiet time, and Joel studies you. He’s begun sitting close to you, trying to memorize the smell of your shampoo on your hair. He thinks he smells it on his pillow. And the scent of your body, your soap and your perfume. He thinks he can smell it on his sheets. He thinks he can smell you on his sheets.

You stay too long in his bed one Thursday night, startled when you hear Joel’s heavy footsteps in the distance. You bolt out of his bed, going down his stairs both as quickly and as quietly as you can. You shouldn’t have been so ballsy. Joel thinks he hears the door close but doesn’t pay it much mind as he undresses and gets into bed, and he doesn’t even notice you running back to your house from his window. What he does notice, however, is the way his bed feels warm as he lays down. He runs his hand along the length of his bed, the sheets feel cool on the opposite side. When he flips on his side, his nose nudges against something damp on his pillow. That’s when he sees your light flickering on from across the distance between your two windows, he sits up in bed to get a closer look at you. He watches your chest heaving like you’re out of breath, perhaps from sprinting across his lawn. He watches you then fall on your bed, he sees both of your knees hike up and spread apart. That’s when he puts two and two together. Suspicions confirmed.

He always knew you were trouble. And now he knows what you’ve been up to, trespassing to touch yourself in his home, in his bed, without him. You goddamn deviant. He’s gonna catch you in the act.

Four whole days go by, which gives Joel enough time to find someone to cover his evening patrol. It’s Tuesday night and he’s got his bedroom lights off so you can’t see him watching you from his window. You look antsy, pacing back and forth across your room, frequently checking your window to see if he’s left yet. When Joel does leave his home, he’s conscious to not look behind himself at your window, to see if your light turns off. He doesn’t want you to know that he knows. He doesn’t look to see if you’re sneaking through his lawn. Instead, he keeps walking, giving you ample time to really screw yourself. When he feels a sufficient amount of time has passed, he turns back around and walks home. He enters his front door slowly and quietly, like a ghost. He takes careful steps through his living room, up his stairs. When he reaches his room, he pushes the door open wider and leans against the frame, listening to your breathy moans, watching you grind on his pillow in the low light of his room. You’re gripping his headboard as you whine, you’re even wearing one of his dirty flannels. Sick puppy.

“Joel,” you moan to yourself. “Joel, oh god–” the lights turn on and you turn your head to see Joel leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed.

“Joel!”

“Yeah, I know,” Joel murmurs. “Caughtcha, didn’t I?” Any words you could possibly think of are caught in your throat. You feel hot, itchy. Joel notices the key he gave you sitting on his dresser and spins it around his finger. “Wasn’t what I had in mind when we set up our little arrangement.”

“I was– I wasn’t–” you shift uncomfortably as Joel puts the key down.

He shuts his door and approaches you on his bed, first examining his headboard. He hums when he sees there’s little indents in the wood from your fingernails, marks on the wall behind the headboard. It all makes sense now. When Joel sits next to you on his bed, you quickly slide your ass off of his pillow and away from him. He’s quicker, tugging your– his flannel in the opposite direction, forcing you back to your place. “Nuh-uh,” he chides. “You stay right there.”

The air feels thick and Joel’s eyes are dark, almost inky black. You can hardly look at him, his intense gaze making you squirm. So instead you look down, where he plays with the fabric of his flannel, admiring the way it dances on your thighs with his touch. He lets a silence hang heavily between you both as he presses his lips in a thin line, waiting for you to explain yourself. You don’t. You can’t. You feel so exposed, so ashamed of yourself.

“Whatcha been doin’ to my pillow?” he finally asks. His voice is low, quiet and deep. He’s met with more silence. “Makin’ a mess, s’what. Up to no good, hm?” More silence as you adjust his flannel over your body, protecting your modesty. “I’m askin’ you a question,” he takes your chin gently between his thumb and forefinger, forcing eye contact.

“Yeah,” your voice is hardly above a whisper. Your face is hot, your waterline is brimmed thick with tears, a few spilling over. “I’m sorry, Joel.”

“Ohhh, I know,” Joel coos, wiping the tears from your cheek with his thumb. “M’not tryin’ to embarrass ya, darlin’. S’human nature.” You can’t even begin to think of a way to get out of this situation. “S’that pillow ‘sposed to be me?”

“Yes.”

“Figures,” Joel mumbles. “Makin’ me blush,” he taunts, tracing lazy patterns on your thigh. His touch makes your tummy flutter, it feels misleading. Like you’re enjoying it almost, though you shouldn’t be. “All you had to do was ask, sweetheart,” he says. “Didn’t need to make believe with my pillow. Get yourself into all this trouble.” You can’t quite get a read on what his angle is here. Still aroused and you feel nervous, small, guilty – awaiting punishment of some sort.

You’re defeated. All you can do is nod in understanding. You find the bravery to meet his eyes, his gaze still dark and intense, perhaps even hungry. He walks his fingers up the length of your thigh, noticing how you twitch as he nears your center. “I’ll go easy on ya f’ya tell me the truth. How long you been doin’ this, sweetheart?”

You are in trouble. He’ll go easy on you if you tell him the truth. “I dunno,” you whisper.

“Sure you do.”

You don’t even know. A few weeks, a month maybe. You shrug.

“Think you wanna be honest with me,” Joel advises, provoking you slightly. Nothing from you. “S’alright. You don’t have to tell me. Just means you’re gonna finish the job.”

“What?”

“You’re gonna finish what you started,” he says. “And this time I’m gonna stay right here and watch.”

Your heart drops. You search Joel’s eyes, looking for some sort of indication that he’s fucking with you. You’re not sure that you’re capable of this. Sex and masturbation are already two different animals. Getting off in front of the man you fantasize about in his bed? Where would you even begin?

“You had the balls to start this, you’re gonna finish it. Come on sweetheart, show me how you do it,” Joel nods, gesturing for you to begin. When you don’t, Joel scoots even closer to you on the bed. “So shy, aren’t you?” He turns his body toward you slightly, outstretching an arm across your body and then holds your hip in his strong hand. He begins to guide your movement, encouraging you to rock back and forth on his pillow. But you’re stiff in his hold. “Come on now,” he encourages, “Y’can even hold my hand f’ya want.”

Joel holds his free hand out to you, still moving your hip with the other. He knows how vulnerable and exposed you feel right now. Taking his hand, your other gripping the headboard once more, you still can’t meet his eyes, Instead you squeeze them shut, your hips following the guidance of his grip.

“Why you bein’ quiet?” he asks, “Need to hear ya.”

Complying with his request, you let out a shaky and small moan. More of a whisper, really. He hums in approval, encouraging you to be louder. You’re starting to build a pace and find your courage, at least a little.

When you let out a real moan, a real sound of pleasure, Joel squeezes your hip. “Ohh, there it is. Good girl,” he coos, “Good fuckin’ girl.”

It’s instantaneous, the way his praise goes right to your core. You’re rocking your hips faster now, adjusting yourself to find a better angle. You can feel your own slick beneath you on the fabric of Joel’s pillow, wetting your thighs and your ass. His hand grips your own firmly, holding you steady, reminding you that he’s here with you.

Joel smirks as you move on your own accord. He lets go of your hip to explore your stomach and your torso with his palms, his fingertips dancing along the underside of your breasts. He sits up to get closer to you, tweaking one of your nipples beneath his fingers and sucking the other into his mouth, licking and swirling his tongue around the peaked bud. You tangle your fingers in his salt and pepper curls, tugging the strands as you ride his pillow.

This is all he wanted. To watch you leave your mark on his clothes, in his bed, on his walls. He pulls away from you and watches you in admiration, moaning softly when he finally presses his palm against his bulge. He undoes his jeans and pushes both them and his boxers down his thighs, then removes his shirt. He grips his cock tightly, biting down on his moans as he gazes at you with lust in his eyes. He thinks you’re getting close now. Your hips are beginning to stutter in their movements, you’re getting quiet now like you’re concentrating on your pleasure, your body’s tensing up. He’s been so focused on you, he’s forgotten all about the fact that this is supposed to be your punishment for trespassing.

Fuck. The punishment.

Joel doesn’t have a clue how he’ll punish you as he lurches forward, kneels behind you and pulls your arms from the headboard. He hopes he’ll find the answer along the way. All he knows is that you’re not coming, not yet. Especially not by your own doing. Yeah, that’ll work, he thinks. He’ll bring you to the brink of orgasm, make you beg and apologize before finally letting you come. Maybe he’ll not even let you come, he’ll see how he’s feeling as time progresses

Joel holds your arms behind your back in one hand and you yelp in surprise, then he adjusts his placement and pulls you back by your legs until you’re prone on his bed. “Up, sweetheart, up,” he mumbles, lifting your hips and pulling his pillow back, propping your ass up for him. The dampness of your arousal on his pillow feels warm and sticky against your tummy.

He palms your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh before parting your cheeks with his thumbs. He runs a single digit through your soft, slick folds, humming as you tremble beneath his touch. You’re so wet. “What a fuckin’ mess,” he purrs, pressing his middle finger against your entrance, circling it before pushing inside. You keen into his touch, arching your back for him.

“Joel,” you whine as he pulls his finger out.

“Do you know what a mess you made?” He doesn’t bother letting you attempt to respond, you’re way too addled for his touch to answer his question coherently. Joel dips his tongue between your sensitive folds, replacing his fingers. Just like how he touched you moments prior, he traces your entrance with a pointed tongue before dipping it into your heat. Your arousal is like honey, so thick and sweet on his lips.

He tastes you, savors you as he kisses your cunt. He’s lapping through your slick folds, his tongue parting all of your sensitive flesh, sensitive just for him. You can feel the wiry hairs of his beard tease your clit before he dips his lower, circling and flicking your bud with the muscle. He sucks it between his lips, making you squirm and writhe in pleasure. “Joel, oh my god.”

Your fantasies of Joel were never like this, never so indulgent. He’s sucking at your clit, then licking, nipping at your folds, before focusing his attention back to that bud. You’re moaning, pushing your ass back and grinding against his mouth, feeling his aquiline nose tease your hole. He’s buried between your most private place, his tongue flicking and swirling with such fervor. You’re biting into his sheets and seeing stars when he enters you with his fingers once more, curling them into that sweet spot inside of you.

You’re bucking against his face, your slick soaking his fingers to the knuckle, spilling into his palm. His fingers’ movements don’t falter as he pulls his mouth away from your cunt, trailing kisses over the crease where your ass meets your thigh. “You’re close, aren’t you?”

“I’m so close,” you answer through a gasp.

Joel kisses up your ass cheek, “How many times did you make yourself come in my bed?”

“Twice,” you reply. You’ll answer any question he asks now.

“Only twice?”

“Tonight.”

“Ohh,” Joel says. “Twice tonight. How ‘bout in total?”

You don’t know the answer. Of course you don’t. He’s doing the math in his head as he fingers you. He’s thinking at least twice a night, twice a week. This venture of yours has probably been taking place over a couple of weeks. So that’s…more than enough, he decides. “Yeah, ‘course you don’t know. S’lot though, hm?” He lifts his face to watch you nod. “In that case, m’not sure that you need to come again.”

“I do,” you whine, “I need it, Joel.”

“You want it–” Joel pulls his hand from your core and you cry at the loss. God, you wish his mouth was back there. “You be good to me and I’ll consider it.”

Joel pumps his cock momentarily behind you before he nudges a knee between your thighs. “Wider,” he instructs, leaning over you from behind. He brackets your thighs with his own, one hand on your waist as he notches the tip of his cock inside of you. He doesn’t yet push all the way in, though. Instead, he waits as you squirm and arch your back for him, trying to take more than what he’s giving you. You whine in frustration. “Easy, now,” he warns. “Should ask permission. Nicely.”

“Please, Joel,” you say, “Fuck me.”

“Yeah, there you go,” he praises, working into your body. You sigh in satisfaction as he buries himself in you fully, his tuft of coarse curls scratching against the skin of your ass. “Wasn’t so hard, hm?”

Joel tightens his grip on your hips, denting his nails into your skin like how you did to his headboard. His thumbs are pressed firmly into your lower back as he begins to roll his hips into you. The way he thrusts so languidly into you makes your head fuzzy, the only thought you can focus on being the sensation of his thick cock parting your insides. He’s fucking you steadily now, and you can feel the skin of his thick, pillowy tummy caressing your back with every stroke. Fuck, how good he feels.

He fucks you apart, setting a steady rhythm. Joel knows how much you needed him, how much you wanted him before now. How you love it, how it’s nothing but pure pleasure that makes up your whimpers and gasps and the tears on your cheek. He leans lower, covering your hand with his own and intertwining his fingers between yours. You shiver as he tugs your earlobe between his teeth, then licks and kisses your ear, his mustache tickling your skin as his nose nudges your temple gently. He takes a moment to kiss away your tears and rests his arm around the crown of your head, caressing your hair before fucking you wildly.

“Feels nice, doesn’t it, sweetheart?”

“So good,” you choke out.

You can feel Joel’s grin against the shell of your ear. “Just how you imagined when you were fuckin’ yourself on my pillow, hm?” he purrs.

“Better,” your answer is honest.

“Yeah, I know,” he says, “Good answer, sweetheart.”

He curls one of his forearms beneath your bicep, reaching for your breast and tweaking, pinching you as he wraps his other arm around you, searching for your pussy with his hand. He finds your sensitive bundle of nerves and draws lazy patterns over it, teasing you. You’re so wet. So slick, your pussy gushing with each stroke of his cock deep inside you. The sounds of your slick and skin slapping skin are lewd, obscene as he pounds his hips against your body. He’s grunting, gasping in your ear. It sends shivers down your spine.

You’re twitching and bucking your hips, chasing that tightness beginning to build in your tummy. “Easy,” he murmurs. “Let me take my time with you.” He knows how desperate you are to come, but Joel makes you wait a little longer, feel the burn some more.

You’re whining and squirming as Joel fucks you, his face buried against your neck the hair on his cheeks scratch you. He’s biting, nipping at your skin as you let out your breathy little moans. In every inch of his body, he feels it–that power he holds, knowing you’re aching to come on his cock and it’s all because of him, it’s all for him.

His cock is beginning to twitch and he’s feeling that warm, sticky feeling in his gut and deep in his balls, he’s not lasting much longer now. He fucks you harder. “What about now, huh?” he grunts, “Should I let you come now?”

“Yeah,” you moan. “Yes. Let me, let me.”

“Then ask me,” he whispers, momentarily slowing his pace. He draws in and out of you slowly as he speaks, “S’all I wanted you to do, just ask me.”

“Please let me come, Joel,” you ask.

“Good girl,” He brings his hand to your face, shoving his fingers past your lips. You know what he wants, no need for his instruction. You’re moaning, sucking on the digits as he fucks you, the motion of his thrusts grinding your clit into his warm palm. Joel feels you begin to tense up as you choke on his fingers. “There you go, let go, let go f’me. You’re alright,” he coos. “Come for me. I’ve got you.”

You’re stiffening underneath him, eyes screwing shut as you let yourself go. You come on his cock and against the calloused palm of his hand, ecstasy washing over you in thick, electrifying waves. Joel watches your face closely, he memorizes your cries of pleasure and how you convulse beneath him. He’s fucking wrecked you.

You’re gurgling on Joel’s fingers that are still in his mouth as he slides his other hand away from your cunt in favor of resting it up high by your head. It’s his turn for release now. He’s without a thought when his hips begin to stutter as they lose their rhythm, the frenetic slamming of his body against yours indicating his closeness. He lets out a symphony of grunts and moans into your ear as he comes inside you, painting your insides with his spend, milking himself entirely. You take it all, everything he gives you, whining at the overstimulation and the way his release makes you feel so warm and full. Your cunt is slippery with his come as his thrusts begin to slow, slow some more until he stills inside you completely, resting on top of you. With a groan, he pulls out to admire his work, to watch how your combined arousal spills on his sheets. He uses two fingers to push some of his escaped come back inside you.

You stay laying on your tummy as you cross your forearms to use as a pillow to rest your head. Joel meets you on his bed, also laying on his tummy. You hadn’t even realized he undressed himself.

He reaches over to caress your cheek, then your flannel-covered back. “Nice touch,” he murmurs. “S’pretty on you.”

“Smells like you,” you confess quietly. “Turns me on.”

Joel makes an amused face as he nods. His eyes are sparkly but sleepy and your cheeks are warm, you bite down on a shy and embarrassed smile. He smirks at that. “So bashful,” he purrs. “You’re welcome to use my home and wear my clothes for your dirty work any time you like,” he says. “Just invite me every now and then.”

If you enjoyed, please leave me a comment, rb, or send me an ask, tell me your thoughts. Your kind words and engagement keep me motivated to write

#strang3lov3 #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us hbo #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal the last of us #pedro pascal joel miller #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal characters

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marcsburnerphone · 4 months

Text

And they were roommates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: that captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: none yet

Part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4

———————

“John Price, military captain, heavily decorated, and unmarried.” you read off of a printed sheet of paper. He’s the third person you’ve seen today that wants to rent the room available. You were praying this one would be a success. You weren’t looking to house the married couples or the rowdy in love teenagers you’d seen earlier on today.

“Yes ma’am that is me.” He says looking down at you, not metaphorically but physically he’s inches above you. You’re far younger than he imagined, beautiful and so awfully well spoken that he’d assumed you’d be either his age or older.

“If this is your job and you’re not married and don't have kids I’m sure you get paid well. Why do you need a roommate?” You say hoping you don’t sound rude but with a job like that this man could afford much better.

“I’m not home much and basically live on base but for the times I do briefly return home id like it to be in a place like your home, beautiful, deserted, quiet.” The last few places he stayed in were apartments and he wanted to settle into something he actually cared to return to, not just someplace that could hold some belongings.

“Well then Mr.Price let me show you the rooms and house, follow me.” You lead him into your home through the halls and the living room simply showing him around making small talk about your job and hobbies.

“If you don’t mind me asking why is it you need a roommate?” He later returns the question, you halt in your tracks and stand still for a second making John hope he hadn’t overstepped.

“I was in a long term relationship that ended two years ago and when we broke up he left me the house or I technically demanded I keep it and um bills have been hard to keep up with.” You Look him in the eyes and smile softly, relieving him of the anxious feeling he’s holding.

“Sorry for asking.” He sincerely apologizes.

“Don’t worry about it, I think it's better you did because this will lead us to the next thing.” You reassure him and continue walking through a pair of French doors.

“This will be your office, I’m sorry about the boxes, they're a little too heavy for me to carry through this house and throw away.” You point to a fair amount of them pushed into a corner.

“No, don't worry about it, I'll get them out.” He replies kindly.

“And then right through here would be your bedroom.” It's exactly to the right of his office, a huge room which must be the master. He wonders if this had been the room you shared with your ex and by the look that covers your gorgeous features, he’s right.

“It has its own bathroom and a walk-in closet. If you want to live here, I’d like the home to be treated as if we both own it, not like you just rent a room, especially for the price.” You explain and truly that is your hope. He’s the perfect tenant and on his submission form he’s looking for a long term place which would mean less worry about the future bills on your behalf.

“When can I start moving in?” He turns to look in your hopeful eyes.

“Immediately if you want it of course.” You say with excitement. The mortgage payments have been a burden and this was a huge relief.

“Is it okay if I have some of my mates help me take these boxes out?” You nod enthusiastically with a quiet

‘of course’.

“I'll be back here early in the morning, Thankyou for inviting me into your home.” He says turning to make way back down the path you took to the room.

“Thankyou Mr.Price.” You offer your hand as a settlement.

“Call me John please.” He shakes it politely.

“I'll see you tomorrow john.” You say walking him to the door and bidding him a goodbye.

—————-

“Be honest captain, is she cute?” John had the unfortunate situation of having to haul soap with him in his car while the two other men drove the moving truck that he only rented to get rid of the boxes you had.

“She’s nearly a decade younger than me.” He answers hoping that’ll lay it to rest.

‘That doesn’t answer my question.” Soap never chooses peace.

“Yeah she’s stunning.” And really you were.

—————————-

“Hi good morning, come in.” You say opening the door letting the cold air sweep into your warm home. Eyeing the huge men that stood in the doorway.

“Good morning this is soap, gaz, and that's ghost if you couldn’t tell. This is my task force and certainly my best mates.” John replies quickly giving them an introduction.

“Nice to meet you all.” You say trying your hardest to not sound intimidated.

“And you as well, gorgeous.” Soap says gripping your small hand in his own.

“He’s a flirt, don't worry about him.” Gaz says, shaking your hand next.

“Nice to meet you.” Ghost offers you his gloved hand giving you the softest handshake he thinks he’s ever given in his life.

“Well you boys can get too it there is pastries on the counter and drinks in the fridge if you need anything i'll be in my room that’s down this hall.” You say smiling at all of them then reaching into the pocket on your paint stained overalls fishing out a pair of keys.

“Oh and before I can forget John these are yours, this one is too your office and bedroom door and this one is too the house door.” You say handing them over on the pink keychain you’ve kept them on all this time.

“Thank you.” He says before you walk away.

————————

“That little lady does not know how to pack these. They are insanely heavy, how'd she ever expect to get them out.” Soap says picking up a box from the office room that’s filled with papers.

“I don’t think that was her main concern.” John says as he also picks one up walking them outside and into the U-Haul he rented.

“She’s a true stunner though, how will John Price be able to resist?” He teases his captain.

“I’m with soap on that one.” Ghost surprisingly grumbles throwing a box down on the gravel.

“Should’ve seen the way she was looking at you captain.” Gaz enters this pointless conversation out of breath gently setting down more boxes.

“I actually think you're the only one here whose age is appropriate for her gaz.” Gaz makes a sound of disagreement.

“Captain 8 years isn’t what you’re making it seem, don't you remember when soap had a girlfriend like 13 years older than him.” The memory flashes through all their minds and ghost has to keep himself from giggling.

“And don’t you remember how it ended.” It was ugly, soap found that when time passes people get older and being 37 with a 50 year old wasn’t what he thought it’d be.

“All I’m saying is I think some romance with a pretty lady like that could do you some good. I mean your living in a home together tension will get to you at some point.” John rolls his shoulders back and sighs.

“Shut up and get back to work, all of you.” The captain says demanding as they all hurry back inside.

But what if?

——————-

“Wow, I don't know when’s the last time I've seen these rooms empty.” You say walking into the office.

“Was it all his?” John says giving you a one up at the change in clothes. You're wearing your pajamas which consist of shorts and a big shirt.

“Yeah it was, when will you be bringing in your own stuff?” You reply quickly changing the topic.

“I actually have all my stuff in my truck, only three boxes, I’m not a man of many possessions.” He laughs Gruffly swiping a hand over his mouth.

“I have clean sheets in my closet if you’ll be needing some.” You offer politely.

“Please.” He says and you nod, turning to go get them.

“I’ll just be bringing in the rest of my belongings.” He says walking down the opposite end of the hallway.

He brings the boxes in one by one, setting them in the office not paying mind to where you could have gone till he brings the last one in and hears you humming in the bedroom putting what were to be his pillows inside pillow cases.

“Oh love you didn’t have too. I've been making my own bed on base for longer than my memory goes back.” His deep voice slightly startles you.

“Sorry, it's just a habit.” You apologize softly and he wonders if it came off the wrong way.

“No, Thankyou is what I really mean.” He says slightly smiling at the floral print sheets that now adorn his bed.

“Sorry these are actually the least feminine looking ones I have.” You smile realizing how silly it looks for a man as manly as the one who stands before you to have blue and pink flower sheets.

“No worries love.” He nods to you.

“Well I'll see you in the morning, goodnight.” You say giving him a small pat on the shoulder and leaving to what he could only assume to be your bedroom.

He got changed for the night, ready to settle into bed. As soon as his head hit the pillows the scent of lavender and a perfume that had to solely be you was invading his senses. Something so feminine and warm and good, god was it good. He turned his head slightly more into the pillow taking a deep breath in and out enjoying it. The more he focused on it the easier the sleep had come and before he knew it he was sleeping like a bear in hibernation.

—————————————-

I’m ready for a new story.

Comments and reposts and greatly appreciated<3

If anyone has thoughts or ideas on how this should go please send them in.

#captain price x female reader #john price #barry sloane #captain john price #john price x reader #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #task force 141 #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod modern warfare

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smileysuh · 2 months

Text

heart aches

🌙 starring. Jeong Jaehyun x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. Your ex finds your sweet spot as easily as ever, as if it hasn’t been two years since his tongue stroked this specific patch of skin and made your whole body tingle with pleasure. You let out a shaky sigh, threading your fingers through his hair and relaxing against the pillows. “Don’t leave me again,” you whisper. “Never again,” he promises.

tw/cw. foreplay, fingering, mutual masturbation, hand job hand fucking, spitting, finger sucking, inklings of oral fixation, praise, dirty talk, pining, reminiscing, breast worship, teasing, Jae being a simp, unprotected sex, handholding while fucking, Jae is pretty vanilla but pent up as hell, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 5.3k

🍭 aus. ex's to lovers, non idol au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I don't normally do angst, but Idk, this felt right for some reason this month

Prologue:

“What’s wrong?” Jaehyun asks, watching you fiddle around the bedroom while he cuddles with your cat on the bed.

Part of you wants to push back your feelings - you’d kind of been hoping to talk to him at the airport in the morning - but you should have known Jaehyun would realize something is up with you. It’s been a nice long weekend having him home with you.

It’s almost been like he never left.

Almost.

With a deep sigh, you go to sit on the foot of your mattress, staring down at your hands. “I can’t do this anymore,” you say quietly.

The room feels achingly silent, and then the comforter ruffles as Jaehyun sits up. “This?” he asks.

“Us.” The word hurts to even say. “The distance… I mean, I knew continuing our relationship while you’re in a different city at a new university doing your graduate program would be rough… but… I just didn’t know I’d ever feel this lonely.”

Tears are welling in your eyes. You don’t want to break up with Jaehyun- he’s had your heart for four years. Starting over with someone new sounds impossible- but at the same time, being away from him hurts more than you could ever have imagined. It hurts when he calls you every night, being the perfect boyfriend, smiling and telling you about his day. It hurts because you thought you’d go through life together- you thought you’d be there to see it all yourself, not hear about it after the fact on the phone.

“Come here,” Jaehyun says softly, moving your cat off his lap so he can open his arms to you.

You allow Jaehyun to pull you into an embrace, his fingers stroking your hair. His heart is thundering in his ribcage, and you can hear it as you cuddle closer.

“I’m sorry that it came to this,” he breathes, “but I understand.”

You can’t help the tears now, and a choked sob escapes you. You grab at the front of his soft hoodie, wanting to crush the emblem of his new school. Part of you wishes he’d never been accepted into the elite business graduate program, but another part knows that Jaehyun deserves to be where he is now.

You love him, more than you’ve ever loved anyone, and that’s what makes this so painful.

Jaehyun needs to focus on his studies, to build a new life for himself across the country- and you need to do the same. You can’t be a ghost anymore, walking through life like a zombie and waiting to hear from him, constantly checking the time zone differences and calculating what he’s doing based on schedules.

“I can still…” you rub at your eyes, swallowing thickly, “I’ll take you to the airport in the morning-”

“It’s okay, baby,” Jaehyun shushes you gently, kissing the crown of your head. “I can get a cab.”

“Are you angry at me?” you ask, pulling away from his chest to look up at his face, worried about what you might find there.

“Of course not,” Jaehyun assures you, immediately stroking a thumb across your cheek to wipe away your tears. “No matter how much I didn’t want to admit it, I knew things had changed when I moved away. I could see that the distance was a problem. You have needs, and I’m proud of you for voicing them, even if it hurts.”

“My heart is breaking,” you whimper.

Jaehyun frowns. “Mine too.”

“You’re really not mad at me?”

“I could never be mad at you,” Jaehyun promises. “I think it will be easier to talk about this with time, if that’s something you’d be interested in. But for now, how do you feel about just laying down, holding each other, and doing our best to enjoy tonight- if it’s going to be our last.”

It might be easier if he was mad at you, if he yelled and swore and tried to make you change your mind- but Jaehyun’s never been an abusive type. Instead, he holds you close, and as you softly cry on his chest, you begin to drift off to sleep.

One

Even in a crowded bar, one distant laugh makes your blood run cold. You grip your drink, heart thundering in your rib cage as you scan your surrounding area.

It’s been two years since you broke up with Jaehyun. Even so, you’d recognize his voice anywhere.

“You good?” your best friend asks, reading your change in expression.

“Yeah, I just thought I heard-” as you’re about to say his name, you spot Jaehyun. He’s leaning against the bar top, chatting with a man whose back is to you.

God, he still looks so good.

Your chest aches, throat going dry. As you watch him, his eyes move to take in the bar. You’re quick to shift your gaze, lifting your drink to your lips to down the rest of it.

“I need to get out of here,” you mutter.

“What? Why?” Your friend reaches for your arm, pulling you closer to check in on you.

“My ex is here.”

“Which one?”

“Which one do you think?” You let out a laugh, but there’s no humor in it.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah. Listen, have fun, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” You hand her your empty glass, giving her one last look before you turn to head to the entrance of the bar.

You can feel eyes on you as you push through the crowd, but you chalk it up to being paranoid. You slip through the front doors, intent on hailing a taxi. As you make it to the cement sidewalk, you hear your name behind you, and that familiar voice has your blood running cold for a second time tonight.

“Y/N?”

Your whole body freezes, and for a moment, you truly consider running. But you’ve already run from Jaehyun once before, and you don’t have it in yourself to do it again.

With a deep breath, you turn to face your ex, your first love, the man you’ve never recovered from.

“I thought that was you,” Jaehyun mutters quietly, shoving his hands into his pockets as he stares at you.

You don’t even know what to say, so you keep your mouth shut, taking in his pretty face and the broad set of his shoulders.

“Sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have followed you,” he admits finally. “It doesn’t look like you want to talk.”

Jaehyun turns to head back inside, and your body reacts on its own accord; you grab at his arm, and it makes him stop. He looks down at your hand, wrapped around his forearm, then up at you.

“We…” you swallow thickly, “we can talk. I just… I don’t know what to say.”

“That makes two of us.”

You drop your hand from his arm when you realize he’s not going anywhere.

“I uh…” Jaehyun clears his throat. “I got back to town a month ago. Meant to message you- but I didn’t know what to say then either.”

“You completed your program?”

“Yup. With flying colors.”

“I guess I always expected you to be a big shot and move to some other city- what are you doing back here?”

“Unfinished business… maybe.” Jaehyun dips his head, looking down at the ground. You watch him absentmindedly kick at an old cigarette butt.

He can’t be talking about you… can he?

“Anyways,” Jaehyun meets your eyes again, “how’ve you been?”

“I’ve been…” you search for the right word, “okay.”

“Yeah? Happy?”

“Sort of. You?”

Jaehyun shrugs, offering you a lopsided smile that makes your heart ache. “Sort of. It was two years of studying. Didn’t have much time for extracurriculars, as you know.”

So your breakup is still a sore spot for him, you can sense it in his words. He’s not outwardly saying it, but… it’s there all the same. There’s something of an apology in his statement, because you do know how hard it was for him to find time for things outside of school- it had been the main reason you’d had to call things off with him.

“How about you?” he presses. “Any uh… any protective boyfriend who’s about to show up and beat my ass?”

You can’t believe he’s asking you outright about this, and the question actually makes you let out a small laugh. You shake your head. “No. No boyfriend.”

“Good. I mean… I hoped you were happy, but uh, you know, it’s nice to hear that, well, you know what I mean.” Jaehyun looks down again, and you can see his ears turning red.

It’s as clear as day that Jaehyun still cares about you. The way he’s acting tells you everything you need to know… well, almost everything.

“So…” you wrap your arms around yourself, “are you planning on leaving again? Do you know how long you’ll be in town?”

“Nothing is set in stone,” Jaehyun admits, cocking his head to the side as he looks at you. “Listen, I’m just going to say it.” He takes a deep breath, meanwhile, you can’t even breathe. “I never got over you. I mean, how could I? You’re everything, and- I understand why we broke up, I really do. But my program is over now, and if you give me another chance, I promise not to go anywhere ever again, at least, not without you right there by my side.”

“Jaehyun-”

“If you need some time to think about it, I totally get that-”

Jaehyun goes to take a step back, and you find yourself grabbing at him once more. Your body simply can’t let him go- not now, not ever again.

Your ex looks down at your hand on his forearm, and as you open your mouth to give him your response, no words come to mind. Your gaze dips to his lips, and before you know what you’re even doing, you’re moving in to kiss him.

Jaehyun is frozen in place at the initial meeting of your lips, but after a moment, you feel his body relax. His hands gently slip to your waist, tugging you closer as he slants his mouth against your own. You feel him release a small groan, and a whimper bubbles in your chest.

How many times have you dreamt of this moment? How many times have you thought about kissing Jaehyun?

Your arms wrap around the back of his neck, and you allow yourself to get lost in the feeling of him-

Someone lets out a whistle, and you roughly pull back from Jaehyun, your eyes finding the two bouncers outside the bar, who are staring at you with wolfish grins.

“Is there somewhere we can go to talk?” Jaehyun asks, resting his forehead against your own.

“Come home with me.”

Two

It feels like deja vu to be walking into your apartment with Jaehyun. You’ve had the same unit for years- and you know it must feel even weirder for your ex to be here again after practically living here with you for half of your time in university together.

As you toss your keys onto the entryway table, you hear a familiar meow. Your cat slinks in from the kitchen, but instead of heading to you, she immediately moves toward Jaehyun’s feet, letting out an obnoxiously loud purr as she begins to rub against him.

“Looks like Mittens hasn’t forgotten me either,” Jaehyun smiles, immediately bending down to pick up the fluffy grey and white kitty. She leans into his touch, purring like an engine as he scratches he cheeks. Her paws begin to make softies on his arm, and it makes your heart ache.

You’ve dated a few guys casually in Jaehyun’s absence, and Mittens has never liked any of them. She always was a daddy’s girl- after all, you’d started dating Jaehyun only a few months after you’d picked her up from the shelter.

You still have pictures of the two of them on your phone, hidden in a secret file- you’d never had the heart to delete them, and as you watch their reunion, you’re glad you never did.

“She missed you,” you admit. “We both did.”

You watch Jaehyun’s Adam’s apple bob with effort, your words clearly invoking emotion. You’re quick to look away.

“Can I get you anything?” you ask, kicking off your shoes. “I had a few drinks at the bar, was planning on making a grilled cheese-”

“You still do that?” Jaehyun asks.

“Yeah.” Your throat feels dry admitting another ghost of your past you still haven’t been able to shake. “I still do that.”

Grilled cheese after a night out had always been your thing, and when you’d started dating Jaehyun, it had become his thing too. You can’t even count how many nights the two of you came home from university parties only to make a grilled cheese and collapse on your bed, giggling and kissing like kids in love.

“A grilled cheese sounds perfect,” Jaehyun says. “Thank you.”

He follows you into the kitchen. As you begin to make the late-night snack, you realize Jaehyun has no intention of putting Mittens down. She basks in his attention, letting out upset chirps any time he tries to stop petting her to help you in small ways.

Jaehyun asks you about your job, and from that, the two of you begin to talk about your lives over the past two years. It feels too natural to slip into this type of conversation. His presence is so calming and familiar- by the time you’re done making the grilled cheese for you to share, it’s almost as if the past two years never happened.

It’s almost as if you never left him.

Almost as if he never left you first.

“Do you want to eat in here?” Jaehyun asks, heading to the small kitchen table.

“We can go to my bedroom,” you say softly. “Unless you wanted to be here.”

“Your bedroom is good.”

He follows you through your apartment, but when you get to your room, he stops in the doorway.

“I can’t get over how little this place has changed,” he muses, looking at the layout of the space.

“Yeah,” you sit down on your bed, lifting your legs onto the mattress and setting the plate by your knee. “I guess I’m used to it like this.”

Jaehyun knows all too well how comfortable you get, how hard it is for you to make changes. You think it must be one of the reasons he never fought the breakup. If you’d gotten to the point of needing an emotional separation to deal with the physical distance, pushing you to change your mind would have only made things worse.

“Can we come sit with you?” Jaehyun asks.

“Of course.” You gesture to the mattress. “Make yourself at home, Jae.”

With a small chuckle, he comes to join you. He’s careful when he sets Mittens down, and she immediately stretches, letting out a massive yawn before coming to investigate the grilled cheese.

Jaehyun reaches for his half of the sandwich. “I missed these.”

“It’s just a grilled cheese,” you laugh.

“Yeah, but there’s something special about the way you make it. I can’t explain it.”

You can only offer him a smile as you both lift the gooey, cheesy, greasy, crispy bread to your lips. The crunch is satisfying, and Jaehyun shifts the food to his right hand so he can pet Mittens with his left.

The two of you eat in silence, but there’s nothing uncomfortable about it. As your meal comes to a quick end, your phone begins to ring, and you stand up to answer it. “Give me a sec,” you tell him, exiting the room while Mittens rushes to follow you.

“Hey girl,” your best friend says. “You okay?”

“I’m good.”

“Seeing your ex must have been pretty hard.”

“Actually, uh…” you look toward your open bedroom door, swallowing thickly then lowering your voice, “he’s at my apartment with me.”

“What!?”

“Yeah, we’re talking things out.”

“Just talking?” You can hear the cheeky grin in her voice.

“Don’t be like that,” you laugh.

“Girl, you and that man were a dream couple. He’s the one that got away, and now he’s in your apartment- he’s probably sitting on your bed, eating grilled cheese-”

“God, stop,” you groan. “Am I that predictable?”

“Nah, it was hashtag just couple things. Okay, look, obviously you’re doing good- I was worried you were somewhere crying and drowning yourself in booze. I’ll leave you be. Say hi to him for me.”

“Will do.” You hang up, looking down at Mittens. She’s circling your feet, and with a sigh, you go to refill her food bowl. You’d given her lunch hours ago, and you feel bad that she just watched you down a grilled cheese with nothing for her own little mittens to get a hold of.

Also… your best friend knows you too well.

Your body is reacting to Jaehyun as if there was never a separation- or maybe, your body is reacting because there was a separation. Your pulse is picking up with each step back to your bedroom, and when you close the door behind you, Jaehyun cocks a brow, finishing his grilled cheese with one last large bite.

“You good?” he asks.

“I’m great,” you tell him, approaching the bed.

“Yeah?” Jaehyun’s gaze moves to the closed door, and he offers you a dimpled grin, mischief flaring on the edges of his expression. “You locked out Mittens.”

Nothing gets past this man. You’ve never loved getting intimate while Mittens is trying to hog Jaehyun’s attention, and you shouldn’t be surprised that he got you figured out the moment you closed the door to your bedroom.

“Don’t even with me, Jae.” You sigh, collapsing onto the mattress next to him while he moves the grilled cheese plate to the side table.

“Look, I don’t want you to feel any pressure just cuz I’m here and we’re sitting on your bed-”

“Does it look like I feel pressure?” you ask, hyper-aware of the way your dress is riding up your thighs.

Jaehyun gives you a slow once-over. “I guess not.”

“You really mean what you said about not going away a second time?” You look down. “Because I don’t think I could take it if we gave this another try and three months down the line you moved cities again.”

Your ex nods. “I promise. If you give me one more chance, I won’t let you down.”

You stare at Jaehyun for a moment, studying the sincerity on his face. “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You open your arms, resting back against the pillows and spreading your legs. “Now come here.”

Jaehyun practically leaps on top of you. He slots between your thighs like he was made to be there, his mouth pressing to your own while you wrap him in a tight embrace. He kisses you like he’s been starved of your lips.

He retains some of the gentleness that he’d exhibited outside of the club, but there’s a desperation too, you can almost taste it on him… along with the grilled cheese.

The thought makes you smile, and Jaehyun breaks the kiss to look down at you, also grinning. “What?”

“Nothing, just- I’m happy.”

“Me too,” he admits, looking down at your beaming face before he grabs your jaw between his thumb and forefinger, angling your head to the side so he can access your neck. Your ex finds your sweet spot as easily as ever, as if it hasn’t been two years since his tongue stroked this specific patch of skin and made your whole body tingle with pleasure.

You let out a shaky sigh, threading your fingers through his hair and relaxing against the pillows.

“Don’t leave me again,” you whisper.

“Never again,” he promises, voice husky in your ear.

His hand slides down the curve of your body, grasping at your thighs and slowly pushing your dress up. Your hips move, rutting in an attempt to spur him on. When his fingers finally find your core through your panties, you swear you see stars. He begins to rub your clit, circling it as he applies more and more pressure.

His mouth continues on your neck, and you begin to whimper from the stimulus.

You’d nearly forgotten how good it feels to be touched by someone who knows you inside and out- by someone who cares about your pleasure more than he’s ever cared about his own.

“Jae,” you whimper, breathing heavily as he rubs your core.

“Yes, baby?” His lips are gentle along your throat, and the feather-light touch almost teases you more than a rougher one would.

“Can we skip the foreplay? I need you.”

Jaehyun’s fingers stop on your clit, and he pushes himself up on an elbow, looking down at you with a quizzical set to his brow. “Skip the foreplay?” he repeats, letting out a scoff. “Baby, I’ve been thinking about what I’d do to you if you ever gave me a second chance for over two years. We’re not skipping the foreplay.”

“But-”

“Please don’t argue with me. Just let me have this. Just let me enjoy the body I’ve missed so much. I’ve missed your sounds, the way you react to my touch-” his fingers pick up their pace on your clit again, and you let out a whine, pushing toward him again. “See? You’re perfect. No matter how many memories of this I have, nothing compares to the real thing.”

When you’d been dating Jaehyun initially, he was - for lack of a better word - pretty vanilla. This dirty talk is new, and it makes your stomach erupt into butterflies. Your mind goes practically blank, lulled into a lusty trance by the musings of a man who’s clearly bewitched by you, body and soul.

When your gaze dips down to his hand between your thighs, you notice the way his cock is straining in his pants. “Can I…” you swallow thickly, “Can I touch you too?”

“Yeah.” His mouth returns to your throat, and he pushes your panties to the side, dragging his fingers through your soaked folds. “Fuck, baby, you’re so wet for me.”

You mewl at his words, quickly fumbling with the button of his pants so you can push them down just far enough to take his cock out of his briefs. Jaehyun releases a low groan and it makes your pussy flutter as you begin to stroke him.

Your ex reacts by slipping his fingers into your core, two long digits going knuckle deep. He tests your walls, grazing your g-spot when he begins to lazily pump his hand, his palm firmly pressing to your clit.

A whimper of pleasure escapes you, and you can feel Jaehyun grin against your neck. “The prettiest sounds,” he muses. “How did you ever get this pretty?”

It’s a rhetorical question, and it makes you feel cock drunk and dumb, your chest pushing up against his own, looking for stimulus- your nipples are hard in your bralette, but you wish you were naked already, wish you could feel him better-

“Jae?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Can you take my dress off?”

Jaehyun pulls his hand away from your core, bringing his two wet fingers to your lips. He pushes them into your mouth, propping himself up so he can look down at you while you suck his digits clean. “I thought you’d never ask.”

You groan around his fingers, the act of sucking is turning you on more than you’d care to admit, but it ends too quickly as Jaehyun pulls his hand away.

He sits up, taking off his own shirt first. Then he reaches down to grab at the hem of your dress, slowly dragging it up your form. Jaehyun’s eyes take in each strip of newly exposed skin, and you can see the way his pupils have blown with interest.

You lift your shoulders off the bed, making it easier for him to tear the fabric off of you and toss it to the side. This leaves you in your bralette and panties, both of which you’re eager to have join your dress on the floor.

Jaehyun’s hand reaches out to cup your breast, his thumb smoothing over the pebbled nipple that’s pushing through the silky fabric. He squeezes you gently, forcing you to release a moan of pleasure.

A moment later, he’s removing your panties, then your bra, fingers pinching at your newly exposed nipple.

Your hand, meanwhile, returns to his cock- only for Jaehyun to grab at your wrist, pulling you away.

You’re about to ask what’s wrong, but then Jaehyun turns your hand palm up, and he spits into the center of it, bringing it back to his cock.

There’s no way that action should have been as sexy as it was- your core throbbing as you begin to stroke his rock-hard length.

With one last lustful look at your body, Jaehyun settles over top of you again, his mouth seeking out your breasts while you pump his cock. The feeling of his tongue flicking against you has you crying out, pushing your chest toward his mouth. His teeth graze over your sensitive nipple and you respond by applying more pressure to his cock.

Jaehyun groans loudly, rutting his hips into your hand, which stills so you can allow him to fuck your palm. He continues to worship your breasts while his hips do most of the work, and you surrender yourself to the pleasurable scenario you’ve found yourself in.

“You know…” Jaehyun presses another kiss to your nipple, “I was going to ask you to sit on my face, but… it’s hard being this close to your pretty pussy and not just… slipping it in.”

“Yeah?” You guide his cock closer to your core, so that when he ruts his hips, the tip of his cock glides through your soaked folds. “Then just do it.”

“Here I was, saying not to skip the foreplay- but here I am, giving in to you like always.”

Jaehyun releases a laugh, and it makes you giggle along with him, because it’s true. Jaehyun may have this sexy, devil-may-care attitude, but he’s always been a total simp for you.

He was completely wrapped around your finger when you first met, and he’s completely wrapped around your finger now. It’s interesting how so much can change, and so little can change at the same time.

“You just feel so good,” Jaehyun groans, thrusting again, the tip of his pretty pink flushed cock just slipping inside of you-

“Fuck, Jae, please-” you push your chest up toward his face again, pumping his length, trying to guide him deeper-

He brings his mouth to your own, capturing you in a breathtaking kiss as he sheaths himself into your wet core.

You let out a low whine, wrapping your legs around his hips and releasing his cock in favor of grabbing his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin.

“Fuck-” Jaehyun moans, staying still inside of you while your walls pulse around his shaft. “Missed this perfect pussy, baby.”

“Missed your perfect cock,” you retort, tangling your fingers in his soft hair and drawing him in for another kiss.

His tongue clashes against your own, his hands finding your hips so he can steady himself as he begins to rut into you.

You love getting lost in him. You can feel your mind slipping away, your body giving into its primal instincts as Jaehyun makes love to you the way he has so many times before.

One of his hands finds your own, taking it from his shoulder and lacing your fingers above you, pressing you into the pillow. He breaks the kiss to look down at you, breathing heavily.

“There’s so much I’ve wanted to say,” Jaehyun admits.

“Then say it,” you urge him, cupping his cheek with your free hand.

He nuzzles against your palm, closing his eyes for a moment while he enjoys your touch. “I’ve missed everything about you. You’ve been on my mind every day for two years.”

Your heart aches.

“It’s more than just the sex, and you know it. I’ve missed holding you,” he squeezes your hand, “missed sleeping next to you. Missed late-night talks and grilled cheese. Missed your laugh and the way your eyes light up when you’re happy. Missed the way you cry at sad parts in movies-”

As he talks, the pace of his thrusts gets faster, and you find it harder and harder not to moan like a whore and interrupt his cute little speech about missing you.

In fact, it’s hard to even keep your eyes open, but your gaze is caught in his own. Jaehyun’s staring into your soul, baring himself to you like a man who’s brought all his walls down.

“I love you,” Jaehyun says gruffly, “I’ve never stopped loving you. Not for one single day. It’s you, and it’s always been you.”

Your stomach muscles clench at his admission, orgasm bubbling to the surface fast from the combination of his movements and his words.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he assures you, licking his lips. “Just rub your clit and let me feel your perfect pussy clench around me as you cum, that will be answer enough.”

With a loud whine, you throw your head back against the pillow, threading your free hand between your bodies. The first touch of your fingers on your clit has you throbbing already, and you release a gasp.

“That’s it, baby,” Jaehyun coos, lips finding your throat. “Just like that.”

“Jae-”

“I know, I know you’re close- must be pent up like me, right? We’re both going to cum way too fast, but that’s okay, we have all the time in the world to enjoy each other- the way I’m going to eat your perfect pussy for breakfast tomorrow morning-”

Your core pulses at the thought, and you rub your clit harder.

“Gonna let go for me, right, baby? I’m so close, want you to cum with me.”

“I’m there-” you tell him, shivering as he licks the sweet spot on your throat. ‘Fuck, Jae-”

“You want me to cum inside right? You’re still on the-”

“Cum inside,” you interrupt him. “God, fuck, please- need you to fill me up-”

Jaehyun groans, squeezing your hand again. His lips move from your neck to your mouth, and your tongues clash in a breathless, moan-filled frenzy, your orgasms just out of reach-

One more whimpered “please” out of you has Jaehyun moaning, his high crashing into him. You can feel him filling you up with his cum, and it triggers your own orgasm. A gasp escapes you, your sensitive nipples pressing against his chiseled chest-

You can feel him everywhere. He’s all-consuming. You completely let go, sounds uninhibited, pussy throbbing harder than it has in the past two years.

Jaehyun fucks you through it, until you’re both sweaty, gasping messes. Then he collapses on top of you, giving your captured hand one last squeeze before adjusting. He rolls off of you just enough to tuck you close to his chest, hand finding your hair and beginning to pet you.

You can hear the racing of his heart as he catches his breath.

As you come down from your high, you feel a welling of emotion bubbling inside of you. You’re shocked when a tear rolls down your cheek, and you’re quick to brush it away. Jaehyun notices the movement and tilts his head to assess you.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you sniffle. “I’m just…. I’m happy, and I missed you a lot.”

“Baby,” Jaehyun’s fingers draw pretty nothings on your back, “I promise I’m not going anywhere ever again.”

☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! I've been reading a lot of shorter smut fics recently, and after doing such a big kick-off in January, I wanted to try a shorter piece again, and challenge myself with a little angst :)

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below!

🔮 preview. “Listen, I promised myself I wasn't going to cum in or on you tonight - you know, seeing as you’re my wife tomorrow and I don’t want to disrespect you - but since you’re begging for it,” Jaehyun slips the tip of his cock inside of you, only to pull away, “I guess I can settle for cumming on your ass, but only if we shower together after.”

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, creampie, pussy eating champ Jae, pussy worship, fingering, 69, blow job, hand job, deep throating, gentle choking, begging, dirty talk, slight cum kink/mentions of exhibitionism, finger sucking, multiple reader orgasms, etc… I petnames. (hers) baby.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.1k I teaser wc. 200

🌙 starring. Jaehyun x afab!Reader

bonus

Since you got back with Jaehyun over a year ago, the two of you haven’t been separated for longer than twelve hours, but tomorrow is the day of your wedding, and there are certain traditions about the bride and groom staying apart- so here you are, cuddled on a couch in your hotel room, missing your fiance.

When your phone rings and Jaehyun’s pretty face shows up as the contact on your screen, you fumble over yourself to pause your movie and answer it. “Jae?”

“Hey, baby. What room are you in again?”

You think about it for a moment. You’d never actually told him where you’re staying in the hotel… “Why do you want to know?”

“Maybe I wanna send my fiance flowers before our wedding tomorrow.”

God, why’s he so charming?

You give him your room number without a second thought, hanging up with an ‘I love you.’

Five minutes later, there’s a knock at the door, and you open it to find Jaehyun standing there with a massive dimpled grin on his face, and a vase of flowers in his hands. “Hi, baby.”

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